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[Illustration: “IT’S A NOTICE ABOUT A REWARD THAT’S JUST BEEN POSTED,”
SAID A MAN.]




                            THE MOTOR BOYS
                              ON THE WING

                                  Or

                     Seeking the Airship Treasure


                                  BY

                            CLARENCE YOUNG

                               Author of
         “The Racer Boys Series” and “The Jack Ranger Series.”


                              ILLUSTRATED


                               NEW YORK
                        CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY




BOOKS BY CLARENCE YOUNG


=THE MOTOR BOYS SERIES=

(_=Trade Mark Reg. U. S. Pat. Office=_)

12mo. Illustrated

  THE MOTOR BOYS
  THE MOTOR BOYS OVERLAND
  THE MOTOR BOYS IN MEXICO
  THE MOTOR BOYS ACROSS THE PLAINS
  THE MOTOR BOYS AFLOAT
  THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE ATLANTIC
  THE MOTOR BOYS IN STRANGE WATERS
  THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE PACIFIC
  THE MOTOR BOYS IN THE CLOUDS
  THE MOTOR BOYS OVER THE ROCKIES
  THE MOTOR BOYS OVER THE OCEAN
  THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE WING


=THE JACK RANGER SERIES=

12mo. Finely Illustrated

  JACK RANGER’S SCHOOLDAYS
  JACK RANGER’S WESTERN TRIP
  JACK RANGER’S SCHOOL VICTORIES
  JACK RANGER’S OCEAN CRUISE
  JACK RANGER’S GUN CLUB
  JACK RANGER’S TREASURE BOX


                          Copyright, 1912, by
                        CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY

                     =The Motor Boys On The Wing=

                                                    Printed in U. S. A.




CONTENTS


 CHAPTER                                      PAGE
      I. TWO QUEER MEN                           1
     II. WARNED AWAY                            12
    III. A SUDDEN DISAPPEARANCE                 21
     IV. NODDY NIXON’S PLIGHT                   29
      V. A SIGHT OF THE BIPLANE                 38
     VI. “HOLD THE TRAIN!”                      45
    VII. A CURIOUS RACE                         56
   VIII. NODDY’S AEROPLANE                      64
     IX. A DISASTROUS FLIGHT                    72
      X. SUSPICIOUS CONVERSATION                82
     XI. OFF TO THE MEET                        90
    XII. NEWS OF BROWN AND BLACK                97
   XIII. WINNING A PRIZE                       105
    XIV. A RISKY CLIMB                         118
     XV. A BREAKDOWN                           124
    XVI. STARTLING NEWS                        130
   XVII. SEEKING CLEWS                         136
  XVIII. A NEW THEORY                          143
    XIX. SUSPICIONS                            150
     XX. A BIG REWARD                          158
    XXI. THE RAG ON THE STATUE                 163
   XXII. OFF ON THE HUNT                       172
  XXIII. AFTER BROWN AND BLACK                 180
   XXIV. THE LONELY FARMHOUSE                  189
    XXV. QUEER ACTIONS                         197
   XXVI. THE WOUNDED MEN                       204
  XXVII. THE CAPTURE                           213
 XXVIII. TOSSED BY THE STORM                   222
   XXIX. THE WRECKED AIRSHIP                   228
    XXX. THE AIRSHIP TREASURE--CONCLUSION      235




THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE WING




CHAPTER I

TWO QUEER MEN


“Don’t try it Jerry, you can’t make it.”

“Yes, I can Bob. There’s more room than you think. Besides, the hay is
soft.”

“No, don’t, Jerry. We’re in no hurry,” put in the third member of a
trio of boys in a big touring car that was skimming along a pleasant
country road behind a load of hay. “Don’t do it!”

“Say, I’m tired of taking in all that fellow’s dust,” returned Jerry
Hopkins. “Hold fast fellows, here we go!”

He pressed down the accelerator pedal of the machine and headed the car
for a narrow space that showed between the load of hay and the side
rails of a bridge that the farm wagon was just crossing.

It was a rather small opening to get through but Jerry was a skillful
steersman, and, as he had said, he had traveled behind the load of hay
so long, breathing the dust kicked up by the plodding horses, that he
was tired of it. The driver had been obstinate and would not pull over,
and this was the first chance Jerry had had to pass.

“You’ll have a smash!” predicted Bob Baker.

“Not on your life, Chunky!” called back Jerry.

“Hug the hay--not the bridge--those side rails may be rotten,” advised
Ned Slade, as he took a firm grip on the lap-robe rail in front of him.

“Right you are,” admitted Jerry. “Here’s where we hit the red top and
timothy. All ready now!”

The big car shot ahead. The farm wagon was rumbling over the bridge,
which was none too strong, and when the auto also reached the
clattering planks it sounded as if a thunder storm had broken loose.

With quick eyes and ready hands Jerry guided the car. Close up against
the sides of the billowy hay he sent the machine to avoid hitting the
bridge rail, yet so narrow was the space that the hub caps raked a
furrow in a retaining plank, while the hay whipped the faces of the
autoists.

“Look out!” yelled Bob.

“Farther over--farther!” cried Ned.

“Oh, all right. Don’t get excited,” advised Jerry calmly. “We’re safe
now.”

They would have been, in another instant, for with a quick turn of the
steering wheel the tall lad on the front seat was about to send the
car cutting in ahead of the horses, having nearly passed the wagon.
But whether the steeds were frightened by the shouts of Ned and Bob,
or whether the driver unconsciously or intentionally turned toward the
auto was not known. At any rate only by a rapid shifting of his course
was Jerry able to avoid a collision. He screwed the wheel around to the
left, and then, as he saw that he was running the front tires into the
bridge rails he twisted his “helm” once more to the right. By this time
the end of the bridge was reached, and Jerry saw an open road ahead of
him, having emerged from behind the hay wagon.

He cut sharply into it, so sharply in fact that the mud guard on the
right rear wheel scraped the nigh horse, causing the animal to swerve
against its mate in fright.

“Whoa there! Hold on! I’ll have th’ law on you fellers!” cried the
driver of the hay load.

“Say, you _did_ hit his horse,” remarked Bob in a low voice.

“Better pull up and see if he’s going to make trouble. Otherwise he
may take our number and report us,” advised Ned.

There was a grinding and shrieking of brakes and the auto came to a
stop just ahead of the farm wagon, the driver of which had now quieted
his horses.

“What do you mean?” he roared, as he dismounted, whip in hand. “What
right you got to smash into me that way?”

Jerry stood up in the machine, and looked at the steeds before replying.
A quick glance told him that beyond a mere scratch that had not even
drawn blood, the horse he had struck was not injured. Then the tall lad
replied.

“Look here, Mister Man. I don’t want any of your talk!”

“Oh you don’t; hey? Wa’al, I’m goin’ to give you some, an’ then I’m
going to make a complaint agin ye!”

“No, you’re not,” declared Jerry with easy assurance. “In the first
place you’re a road-hog of the worst type. We kept behind you for
nearly a mile, swallowing your dust, and, though there were several
places where you could have turned out, and let us pass, you wouldn’t
do it. I got tired of tooting my horn, and when I saw a chance to slip
by I took it. I wouldn’t have barked your horse, if you’d kept to your
own side of the bridge, and you know it.

“As it is, your animal isn’t hurt a bit, but you were nearly the
cause of something serious happening to us. Now go ahead and make a
complaint if you dare. We’ll come right back at you with a worse one
for obstructing the road. That’s all I’ve got to say to you, and you
can put it in your pipe and smoke it! Hold fast, fellows, here we go!”
And with that Jerry threw in his gear, let the clutch slip into place
and they were off down the road before the angry and chagrinned farmer
could think of anything to say.

When he did get his brain to working all he could ejaculate was:

“Wa’al, I’ll be gum-swizzled! Them auto fellers is gittin’ wuss an’
wuss every day. I wish I’d upsot ’em!”

Jerry and his chums were too far off, however, to hear this uncharitable
wish, and it would probably have given them little concern had it come
to their ears.

“Whew! That was hot while it lasted,” remarked Bob, breathing easily
for the first time since the beginning of the little scene.

“You certainly had his number all right, Jerry,” said Ned.

“Yes, there are too many farmers like him,” retorted the tall steersman.
“We autoists don’t want any more than our rights on the road.”

“Yes, and that’s one disadvantage of traveling in an auto,” went on
Ned, when they were once more skimming peacefully along the highway.
“Now if we’d been out in our motorship _Comet_ we shouldn’t have had
any trouble at all. There’s no blockading of the roads up there,” and
he motioned to the blue sky above them.

“No, it’ll be some time before we have to take anybody’s dust up in the
air,” was Bob’s opinion.

“Still the upper regions are more crowded than when we first took to
‘sky-larking,’” spoke Jerry. “Especially at an aviation meet. Which
reminds me that I saw something in a paper I bought back there in
Hammondport about a big gathering of birdmen that’s to take place soon.”

“Where is it?” asked Bob.

“Didn’t have time to look,” replied Jerry. “Here, you and Ned have a
peep at it. If the meet is anywhere around here we might take it in.”
Jerry reached in his pocket, and pulled out a folded newspaper. He
passed it back to Ned, who exclaimed a moment later:

“Say, fellows, we ought to take this in. It’s going to be great, and
maybe we can pull down one of the prizes.”

“Where’s it to be?” asked Jerry.

“At Colton.”

“And where’s Colton?” demanded Bob.

“Not far from the city of Harmolet. We stopped there once to fix up
after a blowout.”

“Oh, I remember that place!” exclaimed Bob. “It was there we had such a
jolly chicken pot-pie dinner.”

“Hum! Yes! Trust Bob to remember anything that had ‘eats’ in it,” came
from Jerry, with a chuckle. “But Colton isn’t so far away. We could
take it in. What do you say?”

“I’m for it,” declared Ned.

“Same here,” added Bob. “But, speaking of chicken pot-pie makes me
hungry. There’s a good hotel just ahead and what’s the matter with
stopping there for dinner?”

“Nothing, I guess,” conceded Jerry. “We’re out for a good time, and we
might as well have it. We’ll stop for grub, fellows, and then we can
talk about this meet.”

A run of five minutes more brought them to a small country town called
Freedon, where they ran their car under the hotel shed, and were soon
arranging for dinner.

While waiting for the meal to be served the boys sat in the hotel
lobby, which contained quite a few persons; farmers who had come in
on business, or to sell produce, traveling men, and one or two well
dressed persons, apparently auto tourists like our heroes.

Two men in particular attracted the attention of Jerry and his chums.
They were dark-complexioned chaps, evidently used to being out of
doors, and their quiet but expensive clothes betokened that they were
well off, or posed as being in that condition.

But it was neither the clothes nor the appearance of the men that
attracted the attention of the boys as much as their manner. They sat
together, not far from the hotel clerk’s desk, and sharply scrutinized
every person in the lobby. Nor did our friends escape observation. The
dark, eager, shifting gaze of the two men rested on the boys from time
to time, and then darted off toward newcomers.

“Have either of you seen those two men before?” asked Jerry of Ned and
Bob, in a low voice.

“No,” replied Bob, who because of his fleshiness was still panting from
the exertion of climbing the hotel steps.

“How about you, Ned?”

“I agree with Chunky,” was the other lad’s reply, giving his stout chum
his often-used nickname. “But they certainly will know us if they see
us again.”

“They sure will,” came from Jerry. “But now let’s have a look at that
paper. I want to read about the meet. Where did you say it was to take
place Ned? I mean that aviation meet.”

“At Colton, near Harmolet. We could put up at Harmolet I think, for
there are not likely to be many accommodations in Colton. I know there
is a good hotel in Harmolet.”

“Then Harmolet for ours!” exclaimed Bob in rather a loud voice. “I
think--”

At the mention of the name of that city the two queer men, as if moved
by the same impulse, stared straight at our heroes. The eyes of Jerry
met first those of the man nearest him, and then shifted to the face
of his companion. The two men hastily glanced away, and then, as Bob,
who had noticed their strange action and who had interrupted himself,
resumed his remarks about the desirability of Harmolet as a stopping
place, the two strangers whispered eagerly together.

“Hum,” mused Jerry. “That’s rather odd. They must know something about
Harmolet.”

“That’s not strange, seeing that it’s a good-sized place,” observed
Ned. “But I don’t believe I’d care to have anything to do with those
chaps--especially after dark,” he added in a low voice. “I don’t like
their looks.”

“Same here,” agreed Jerry. “But we’re not likely to have anything to do
with them. Now about this meet. If we’re going we’ll have to give our
motorship _Comet_ an overhauling,” and with that our friends fell to
talking of air travel, in which they were well-nigh experts.

Dinner was presently announced, and the boys went up to the hotel desk
to register. Just in front of them were the two strange men, whose
conduct had been the cause of some speculation among the three lads.
The men put their names down on the books just ahead of Jerry Hopkins.

“Hum--James Brown and John Black,” mused Jerry as he looked at the
signatures. “Couldn’t be any more common names than those I guess.”

“Where are they from?” asked Bob, for Jerry had registered for his two
chums.

“It might be almost any place,” was the answer, “for it’s such a
scrawl that I can’t read it. Brown and Black; eh? Well, they’re both
dark complexioned enough to be called ‘black.’ However let’s go in to
dinner. I hope we don’t sit anywhere near them. It would spoil my
appetite to be stared at the way they have been looking at us.”

“It’ll take a good deal to spoil _my_ appetite,” observed the stout lad
with a heart-felt sigh.

The fears of our heroes were groundless, for they were seated well away
from the two odd men, and they managed to do ample justice to the meal.




CHAPTER II

WARNED AWAY


“Well,” observed Bob, after an eloquent silence, during which knives
and forks had been industriously plied. “Now I’m ready to talk
business. When do you think we can go to that meet, Jerry?”

“As soon as we like, or, rather, as soon as it opens, which isn’t for
two weeks.”

“Will you try for a prize?” asked Ned.

“I don’t see why we can’t,” was the opinion of the tall lad. “I
wish they had some water there, so we could do some stunts with our
hydroplanes, as we did when we rescued Mr. Jackson. That was a trip
worth taking.”

“It sure was,” agreed his chums. “Maybe we can soon take another like
it.”

And they fell to talking of their adventures in the past, and of those
hoped for in the future.

While they are thus engaged I will take the opportunity of telling you
something more about the boys, for I may not get another chance, as
they are such rapid-fire chaps. Those of you who have read the previous
books in the series need no introduction to the motor boys, but new
readers may wish to be formally presented to them.

The boys were Jerry Hopkins, the son of Mrs. Julia Hopkins, a wealthy
widow, Bob Baker, whose father, Andrew Baker, was a prominent banker,
and Ned Slade. Ned’s father, Mr. Aaron Slade, owned a large department
store. The boys had been chums ever since they were in the primary
school, and when they were old enough to have motorcycles their
friendship was more than ever firmly cemented, for they had many
adventures together, as told in the first volume of this series,
entitled “The Motor Boys.” Later they got an auto, and made a long trip
overland, and some time afterward, in company with Professor Uriah
Snodgrass, they went to Mexico to discover a buried city.

Coming home from Mexico across the plains they had more adventures.
With some money they had made in a gold mine they had located, they
bought a fine motor boat, and in that they spent many pleasant hours.
The fifth volume of our series, entitled “The Motor Boys Afloat,”
details some of them. In their craft the _Dartaway_, they took quite
a trip along the Atlantic coast, and also down in the everglades of
Florida. Later they voyaged on the Pacific ocean, in search of a
mysterious derelict.

But staying on the earth, or afloat on the water did not long content
our heroes. Airships were coming more and more into prominence, and it
was not long before our friends had a fine motorship called the _Comet_.

You will find this air-craft fully described in the ninth volume of the
series, entitled “The Motor Boys in the Clouds,” so I will not take up
space to tell of it here. Sufficient to say that it was a combination
of a dirigible balloon and an aeroplane, and could sail for many miles
without coming down. In it our friends had many adventures, nearly
always accompanied by Professor Snodgrass, who was an enthusiastic
collector of bugs, reptiles, and scientific specimens of various kinds,
for a museum.

It was not always easy sailing for our heroes, for in their town of
Cresville, not far from Boston, there lived a bully, Noddy Nixon by
name, who with his crony, Bill Berry, made much trouble for them. But
our friends generally got the best of Noddy in the end.

The motor boys made a long trip over the Rockies in their motorship,
and helped to rescue a band of white persons who were held captives by
a strange tribe of Indians. Later, Jerry and his chums, as told in the
eleventh book of the series made a flight over the ocean, and succeeded
in rescuing a Mr. Jackson, who with some friends and a crew were
unconscious in a dirigible balloon that had become disabled at sea.
Mr. Jackson, as told in the story “The Motor Boys Over the Ocean,” was
being sought by Mr. Slade, to aid him in his department store business,
which was on the verge of failure. And Ned and his chums rescued Mr.
Jackson just in time, not only to save his life, but to prevent the
ruin of Mr. Slade’s business.

The boys had been back from this trip over the ocean some time now,
and, after a winter spent at their studies, they were, with the arrival
of summer, ready for fresh adventures.

They had been out for a spin in their auto when the events narrated in
the first chapter took place, and now we will resume their acquaintance
in the hotel where they are just finishing dinner.

“Well, shall we go on?” asked Jerry, as he and his chums arose from the
table.

“Oh, let’s sit around a while and rest,” proposed Bob. “It’s bad for
digestion to hustle around right after a meal.”

“There’s nothing the matter with _your_ digestion,” declared Jerry with
a laugh. “But I guess it won’t hurt us to sit around a bit. Who’s got
that paper about the aviation meet?”

“Here it is,” replied Bob, passing it to his tall friend.

“I see you are interested in airships,” remarked the hotel clerk, for
the lads were talking in front of the desk where they had paid for
their meal. “We have other guests here today who are what you call
‘birdmen’ I guess.”

“What, some aviators here?” exclaimed Ned, and he and his two chums
showed the interest they felt.

“Who are they?” demanded Jerry. “I didn’t see any one in the dining
room that I’ve ever met in a dirigible or aeroplane.”

“Well, perhaps these fellows are amateurs, but they came sailing here
all right in one of those air machines--I don’t know enough about ’em
to tell whether or not it’s a dirigible balloon or a monoplane,” said
the clerk with a laugh. “But they’re here.”

“Who are they?” asked Jerry again.

“Those two dark-complexioned men standing over near the door,” replied
the clerk, nodding his head in that direction.

“What? Not Brown and Black?” exclaimed Ned.

“I think those are their names,” went on the clerk, as he looked at the
register. “We had quite a crowd here to-day--yes, it’s Brown and Black
all right, though I don’t know which is which.”

“Brown and Black,” mused Jerry. “I never heard of their doing any great
stunts in a dirigible balloon or aeroplane.”

“No, they’re only amateurs, they told me that when they arrived,” went
on the clerk. “They came out from Boston, and are going back soon. It’s
a trial flight for them.”

“Where’s their machine?” asked Bob eagerly.

“Yes, could we get a look at it?” put in Jerry.

“I don’t know,” spoke the clerk doubtfully. “They told me they didn’t
want to be bothered with a crowd, and they stored their machine in an
enclosed lot back of the carriage sheds. There is a high fence all
around it, and the gate is locked. But as long as you boys are air
navigators yourselves I guess Mr. Brown and Mr. Black won’t mind if I
let you look at their machine. They are busy talking now, anyhow, so
you can slip out and take a peep at it. Here’s the key to the gate. Go
out this back door, down the alley, and open the first gate you come
to. Don’t let any one else in.”

The boys eagerly promised, and making sure that the two strange men
were deep in a conversation, our friends slipped out of the hotel rear
door, Jerry taking the key.

“Who’d ever think those fellows were birdmen?” asked Bob, as they went
along.

“No one,” agreed Ned. “There’s something mysterious about them. Why are
they so afraid of any one seeing their machine?”

“Give it up,” answered Jerry. “We’ll soon have a peep at it, and
perhaps we can tell then. But I don’t blame them for not wanting a
lot of farmers crowding around when they’re trying to land or make a
flight. You know what trouble we’ve had at times.”

“That’s right,” agreed Ned. “Well, there’s the gate in the fence. Now
for a look.”

In the midst of a small enclosure they saw the air machine--a
large-sized biplane of an up-to-date model. It took but a glance to
disclose this, and with expressions of admiration the boys hurried up
to it, to inspect it more carefully.

“Say, that’s a beaut all right!” declared Bob.

“Some class to it,” exclaimed Ned. “Look at that engine! Why it’s
almost as powerful as the first one we had.”

“Yes, it’s a good machine--of its kind,” admitted Jerry. “Of course it
isn’t like ours, but it’s got a lot of speed and power, I’ll wager. And
look at that gasolene tank. Why they could go several hundred miles
with one filling.”

“The _Silver Star_,” read Bob, as he saw the name of the aeroplane
painted on one of the side planes, and on the vertical rudder. “Rather
a classy name; eh?”

“It sure is a good machine,” went on Jerry, as he took in the various
details. “I wonder if those fellows--Brown and Black--made it
themselves, or who did? There are some points about it that are worth
copying, if they aren’t patented.”

“Let’s ask ’em,” proposed Bob.

Jerry did not answer. He was looking at the double seat of the
aeroplane--for it was built to carry two--and near one of the
improvised chairs was a small box, evidently for tools.

The cover of the box was partly raised, and with pardonable curiosity
Jerry tilted it all the way back. He was anxious to see all the details
possible of the machine that had so interested him and his chums.

As he got a glimpse inside the tool box Jerry uttered a half-suppressed
cry of astonishment.

“Look here, fellows!” he exclaimed. “See these queer tools? First time
I ever knew an aeroplane operator to carry anything like them.”

“What are they?” asked Bob, peering over his chum’s shoulder.

“Why here’s a powerful drill, some lead hammers, another of copper, and
a drill, to be attached to an electric light circuit. And here’s some
sort of a fusing torch, to melt or fuse a hole through steel. What in
the world can they want with these tools in an aeroplane?”

“Maybe they’re afraid of a break-down,” suggested Ned.

“What good would an electric drill or a fusing torch do even if they
did get a break-down?” demanded Jerry. “No, there’s something queer
here, and----”

“Hi there! Get away from that machine!”

“Clear out, you fellows! What are you doing there?” interrupted two
angry voices, and our heroes looked up to see the two men--Brown and
Black--running towards them across the enclosed field.




CHAPTER III

A SUDDEN DISAPPEARANCE


Startled, the boys moved back somewhat from the aeroplane, and waited,
not without a little apprehension, the arrival of the two strange men.
The strangers increased their speed, and came up on the run, their
faces showing the evident anger they felt.

“What--what are you doing at our machine?” panted Black, the taller of
the twain.

“Just looking at it,” replied Jerry calmly. “We haven’t done any
damage. We’re aviators ourselves.”

“We’ve made lots of flights,” put in Ned.

“And we know enough not to monkey with another man’s apparatus,” added
Bob. “We were only looking at it.”

“What right had you to come in here?” demanded Mr. Brown, in surly
tones.

“Yes, who let you in?” added his companion.

“The hotel clerk,” answered Jerry, for the key of the gate in his hand
was rather incriminating evidence. “He didn’t mean any harm, but we
were very much interested when we heard that you had come in a biplane,
and we wanted to see what type it was. We saw you were busy talking, so
we didn’t bother you. We just came out here to have a look.”

“It was mighty fresh of you!” growled Mr. Black.

“Yes, and we’ll report that hotel clerk, too,” added Mr. Brown. “He had
no business to give you the key.”

“Oh, it--it wasn’t altogether his fault,” said Bob, hoping that their
friend at the desk would not be blamed.

“We know whose fault it was, all right,” snarled Mr. Black. “Now you
fellows clear out of here. We arranged, when we put up at the hotel,
that we shouldn’t be annoyed by snooping crowds, and now----”

“We’re not a crowd,” remarked Ned with a smile.

“None of your back-talk!” exclaimed the shorter of the aeroplanists.
“We know our own business best. Now make tracks out of here,
quick--give me that key!” and he fairly snatched it from Jerry’s hand.
The tall lad seemed about to say something, but he thought better of
it, and held his tongue.

“Go on--move!” ordered Mr. Black, as the boys showed no inclination to
walk away. “Get a hustle on you!”

By this time Mr. Black had caught sight of the opened tool box. A flash
of rage seemed to pass over his face.

“Who opened that box?” he snarled.

“I did,” replied Jerry calmly.

“Did you--did you take anything out?” demanded the man, striding toward
our hero.

“I did not,” was the quiet rejoinder.

“Did you dare unlock it?” demanded Mr. Brown.

“It was unlocked, and the cover was partly raised when we got here,”
went on Jerry. “We wanted to see what kind of tools you carried, so I
opened it. We meant no harm, and I trust we did none. We are sorry you
take our harmless investigation in this spirit.”

“Are you sure the box was open?” persisted Mr. Black.

“It was,” declared Jerry, his face flushing at this implied doubt of
his word.

“I--I guess I unlocked it, and forgot to close it,” put in Mr. Brown.

“Huh! Mighty careless of you--Jake--I mean James,” said Mr. Black,
hastily correcting himself. “Now you fellows clear out,” he went on.
“We’s going to make a flight, and we don’t want to be bothered.”

Silently Jerry and his chums left the enclosure. Mr. Black followed,
and locked the gate after them. Our heroes returned to the hotel lobby.

“Say, they’re regular fire-eaters,” declared Ned.

“Yes, they get on their ears mighty quick,” said Jerry.

They found the hotel clerk quite disturbed.

“Say, did they make much of a fuss?” he asked anxiously. “They came
for the key of the gate directly after you boys left, and I tried to
put them off. But they wouldn’t have it, and then I told them some
aeroplanists were out looking at their machine. Whew! They ran out as
though the sheriff was after them. Did they raise much of a row?”

“Oh, not an awful lot,” said Ned, not wanting to make the good-natured
clerk worry any more than was necessary. “I guess it’ll blow over.”

“I hope so,” murmured the hotel man.

The queer aviators did not seem disposed to make any further trouble,
for presently a stable man appeared with the gate key, saying that the
two men were about to leave in their airship.

“They hadn’t time to come in an’ bring the key,” he explained. “I’m
goin’ out an’ see ’em fly.”

The news soon spread around through the hotel that an airship was
going up, and a crowd rushed out to see the start. The high fence
of the enclosure prevented the ground-maneuvers from being viewed,
but presently there was a clatter as the motor started, and soon a
bird-like shape arose above the fence.

“There they go!” cried the throng, and our heroes and the others saw
the two men seated in their machine mounting rapidly upward.

“I hope we’ve seen the last of ’em--they’re so unpleasant,” remarked
Jerry. But he and his chums were destined to meet the two strange men
again, and under queer circumstances.

Discussing their encounter with Messrs. Brown and Black, talking of the
aeroplane _Silver Star_, and planning what they would do when they took
their own motorship _Comet_ to the coming aviation meet, Jerry and his
chums were soon speeding back toward Cresville in their auto.

“Maybe we’ll see Brown and Black at the Colton doings, fellows,”
suggested Bob. “They seemed to be on the alert as soon as we mentioned
Harmolet.”

“Well, they may be there,” agreed Jerry. “They certainly have a good
machine of its class, though I believe ours would beat it in a race.”

“I’m sure of it,” declared Ned, who took great pride in the _Comet_.
“But I can’t get over the queer tools those fellows carried.”

“Me neither,” went on Jerry. “It looked to be a lot of useless weight.”

This gave a new turn to the conversation, and one thing led to another,
so that almost before our friends realized it they were near Cresville.

As they approached a turn in the road, they heard behind them frantic
tooting of an auto horn, and the loud throbbing of a cut-out muffler.

“Some one’s in a hurry,” observed Jerry, steering over to one side.

“Maybe it’s a doctor on an emergency case,” suggested Bob.

“Doctor nothing!” retorted Ned, after a look to the rear. “It’s Noddy
Nixon, and he’s coming on at a terrific clip. Look out Jerry! He’ll do
something spiteful just for fun. Keep over.”

“I’m over as far as I dare go,” replied the tall lad. “I don’t want
to slide into the ditch,” for the road at this point was bordered by
deep marshy gutters on either side. It had rained that morning, and the
hollows of the road were filled with muddy water.

On came Noddy, his horn wildly tooting, and his cut-out muffler
thundering like a battery of small guns. His machine was increasing its
speed every moment.

“He’d better look out on the turn,” said Jerry to his chums, as he
slowed up.

With a whizz and a roar the machine of the bully passed the one
containing our heroes. This was at a point on the road where there was
a big puddle. Into it splashed the big-tired wheels of Noddy’s car, and
instantly a shower of dirty water was sprayed all over our friends,
drenching them, and soiling their trim car.

“Wow!” yelled Noddy in derision as he passed. “Wow! Look out for me!
I’m a terror!”

“You’re a sneaking coward! That’s what you are!” shouted Ned, wiping
the muddy drops from his face.

“By Jinks! Look at my clothes!” wailed Bob.

“The sneak!” burst out Jerry. “I’ll fix him for that!”

“Take after him!” urged Ned. “We can beat his car all to pieces!
Overtake him, and we’ll haul him out and rub his nose in the mud! The
cad!”

“I’ll catch him all right!” declared Jerry grimly. “We’ll get even with
him for this, all right.”

It was the work of but an instant to turn on more power, and the
speedy car of our motor boys shot ahead down the road after the
fast-disappearing vehicle of the bully.

“There! He made the turn!” cried Ned.

“And on two wheels,” murmured Jerry. “He’s taking chances.”

On thundered the pursuing auto. Jerry slowed up at the turn, but even
then he took it at such speed that the machine skidded unpleasantly.

Once more they swung out into a straight stretch, and as they did so
there came a simultaneous cry of surprise from the three boys.

For there before them, off to one side, and stuck deep in the muddy
road-side ditch, was the car of Noddy Nixon. But the bully was not in
it, nor was he in sight. He had suddenly disappeared.




CHAPTER IV

NODDY NIXON’S PLIGHT


“What can have happened to him?” asked Ned.

“That’s his auto; isn’t it?” demanded Bob.

“Surely,” answered Jerry. “No mistaking that; but Noddy isn’t in
it--that is unless he was knocked unconscious and has slipped under the
seat.”

“Let’s look,” proposed Ned. Jerry had brought their own car to a stop,
and as the three lads alighted, peering anxiously toward the stalled
machine for a sight of the bully, they were startled by hearing a groan
of distress.

“What’s that?” cried Bob.

“It sounded like--him!” declared Jerry.

“Oh--Oh fellows--help me--Oh I’m--I’m stuck!” exclaimed a woe-begone
voice.

Simultaneously our friends turned their gaze in the direction of the
cry. It came from a slimy black pool of mud and water, off to the left
of the Nixon car, which was in the slough over the hubs. The sight
that met the gaze of Jerry and his chums was enough to excite their
pity, even though the victim was their worst enemy.

Noddy Nixon was standing in the mud puddle which came considerably over
his waist, and from the condition of his face, it was evident that
he had been flung in head first, and had, after a struggle righted
himself. He was covered, streaked, spotted and speckled with the black,
slimy mud. It dripped from his shoulders, dripped from his extended
hands, and even oozed from his chin in a slimy stream.

For a moment our heroes gazed at him without speaking, then Jerry
uttered an expression combining surprise, dismay and pity.

“Well, what do you think of that?”

“He certainly is all in,” was Ned’s opinion.

“Good and proper,” murmured Bob.

Probably the hardest thing Noddy Nixon ever had to do was to appeal for
help to the three boys whom he had, many times in the past, used so
meanly. Yet there was no way out of it.

“Oh--oh, fellows,” he faltered. “See if you can’t help me out of here.
I--I’m stuck.”

“How’d you get there?” asked Jerry for want of something better to
inquire about.

“I--I stopped my car too suddenly,” replied the bully trying to wipe
some of the mud from his face with a still muddier hand. “It skidded,
and I put on the brakes hard, and I was flung out.”

“You didn’t pick out a very good place to land in,” grimly remarked Bob.

“Guess he didn’t have time,” suggested Ned.

“Oh, aren’t you going to help me out?” begged Noddy.

“Do you mean help you out, or your car?” asked Jerry. “Why can’t you
wade over to solid ground? Then we’ll help you pull out your car.
That’s stuck pretty bad too.”

“No, I--I can’t wade out,” replied Noddy helplessly. “I’m in a sort of
muck, or quicksand. Everytime I try to take a step I go in deeper. I
need a board or a fence rail, or--or something to help me. Oh, please,
fellows--I know I’ve been mean to you--but forgive me and help me out!”

“It’s about time you got wise to the fact that you did us some mean
turns,” spoke Ned. “How about splashing mud on us a little while ago?”

“I’m sorry I did that.”

“Yes, you are now, but the next time you get the chance you’d do the
same thing,” declared Jerry.

“No, honest I won’t!” promised Noddy, and he was in earnest--at least
for the time being.

“Well, you don’t deserve to have us help you out, but we can’t see you
in this plight without doing something,” went on Jerry. “Try once more
to pull yourself out. I don’t fancy getting all covered with mud.”

Noddy tried, but it was of no use. The more he struggled to free
himself, the deeper he sank, and he was evidently very much alarmed--so
much so that he began to blubber.

“Oh, now, stop bellowing, and we’ll help you,” cried Ned, much
disgusted by the cowardice of the bully. “Come on, fellows, get some
fence rails, and we’ll see what we can do.”

The rails were brought, and extended to Noddy in a sort of criss-cross
platform to support him. In placing them our friends got in the mud
over their shoes, but there was no help for it. Presently Noddy was
able to bear part of his weight on the rails, and then, by a vigorous
effort, he managed to pull his legs loose from the grip of the sticky
mud. He crawled out on the firm ground, a worse looking sight than
Jerry and his chums had seen for many a day.

“Look at me!” gasped Noddy in dismay, as he glanced down at his legs.
“Look at me--Oh!--Oh! It’s--it’s--awful!”

“Better look for a clean puddle of water and roll in it,” advised Ned,
trying not to smile.

“If you had a lot of newspapers you could wipe some of it off,” added
Bob.

“Or some rags from your auto,” put in Jerry. This mention of the car
recalled to Noddy the plight of his machine. He looked over to where it
was firmly imbedded in the slough, and said:

“Will you help me get it out, fellows?”

“It’s in pretty deep,” observed Jerry, going closer and taking a
critical observation.

“We’ll have to get some wide boards and put them under the wheels,” was
Ned’s opinion.

“Maybe we could pull it out with our car, if we had a long rope,”
suggested Bob.

“That’s the very thing!” exclaimed Jerry. “I guess we can pull it out,
Noddy--but next time, don’t go so fast--especially around a curve.”

“I’ll not,” promised the miserable bully.

“And don’t steer out of your way to splash mud on people from whom you
may want help afterward,” suggested Ned significantly.

“I--I won’t,” declared Noddy. “Oh, fellows if you’ll only pull my
car out for me I’ll pay you well. My father said if I had any more
accidents I couldn’t run it again this summer. I’ll do anything you say
if you’ll pull it out.”

“We don’t want any of your money,” half growled Jerry. “There’s one
thing about it though, you’ve got to wade in there yourself to attach
the rope; that is if we can get one.”

“I’ve got a long rope in the car!” exclaimed Noddy eagerly. “I always
carry one, for I was stuck in the sand once. I’ll go in and get it,
and fasten it to my car. Then I’ll bring the end out here, and you can
attach it to your machine.”

“Yes, I guess you’d better do the wading,” said Ned, for to get to
Noddy’s stalled car it would be necessary for some one to go in the
muck up to his knees, and none of our heroes relished this. “You can’t
be much muddier than you are Noddy,” finished the merchant’s son.

“I’ll do it,” promised the bully eagerly, and having gotten rid of some
of the muck on his face and hands he stepped into the miniature swamp,
and was soon attaching the rope to the rear of his car. Then he brought
the free end out to firm ground where Jerry received it. Then, having
turned his auto around, the tall lad made the cable fast to the rear of
his machine.

“Come on now, fellows, get in our car to hold it down when the strain
comes,” suggested Bob to his chums.

“All ready?” asked Ned of Noddy, a little later.

“Yes,” was the faltering answer.

Jerry threw in the gear, and let the clutch slip into place. The car
of our heroes went forward a little way, and then began the strain on
the rope. The strands straightened out, there was a creaking sound, but
Noddy’s auto did not budge.

“Try more power, Jerry,” suggested Ned.

The tall lad turned on all the gasolene he dared. The rear wheels of
his auto spun uselessly around in the wet dirt of the highway.

“Wow! Stop!” cried Bob. “You’ll rip off our tires.”

“I guess we can’t stir you, Noddy,” called Jerry, as he shut off the
power.

“Oh, try! Try once more!” begged the bully.

Jerry did not relish his task much, but he did try. Once more the rope
became taut. There was a great strain on it. Once more the wheels of
the pulling auto spun around. Still Jerry kept the power on.

Noddy’s car quivered in the mud that held it fast. It moved not an
inch, however.

“Go on! Go on!” yelled the bully encouragingly.

“You’ll ruin our tires!” cried Ned.

Jerry, with a grim look on his face turned on the least bit more
gasolene. Then, with a crack like that of a revolver the rope snapped,
and one end of it flew dangerously close over the heads of our heroes
in their car. For when a rope on which there is a great strain breaks
suddenly, it is a dangerous missile.

“Look out!” yelled Ned, as he saw the end of the cable hurling toward
himself and his chums. They ducked just in time. The other end flopped
down in the mud behind Noddy’s car.

The bully looked disconsolate.

“Have to try it again, I guess,” he suggested.

“Not much!” declared Jerry decisively.

“Wha--what?” gasped Noddy.

“No more tries for us,” went on the tall lad. “You’ve stuck too fast
for us to pull you out, Noddy. What you need is some pulleys and a
derrick. We can’t risk breaking our car, and ripping off the tires.
You’ll have to stay there until you can get some one else to pull you
out.”

Jerry detached the broken rope from his car, and got in again.

“You--you aren’t going away and leave me; are you?” faltered Noddy.

“You guessed it,” declared Bob.

“Oh, please pull me out!” pleaded the bully.

“We can’t,” spoke Jerry, not unkindly. “It’s impossible, Noddy. That
mud has too firm a hold on your wheels. The best we can do is to stop
at the nearest garage and tell them about you.”

The bully begged and pleaded by turns, and offered the boys a large sum
of money; but though our heroes would have helped him, in spite of his
former meanness, it was out of the question. They could not afford to
damage their own car, and risk getting hurt by a breaking rope.

“Sorry to leave you, but we must,” called Jerry, as he sent the auto
slowly ahead. They turned toward Cresville, leaving Noddy standing on
the brink of the muck-hole, gazing disconsolately at his stalled auto,
while the mud and water dripped from him at several points, and formed
little puddles at his feet.




CHAPTER V

A SIGHT OF THE BIPLANE


“Say, things haven’t done a thing but happen to us today,” remarked
Bob, when they were nearing the broad, smooth highway that led directly
into Cresville.

“That’s right,” agreed Ned. “Meeting those two queer men, having them
nearly take our heads off because we looked at their aeroplane, and
then this mix-up with Noddy.”

“Noddy got _his_ all right,” observed Jerry grimly. “I don’t believe,
even if we’d caught him, and given him a well-deserved licking, that
he’d be any worse off.”

“It was retributive justice with a vengeance,” was Ned’s further
opinion. “But, speaking of queer happenings, what do you make of Brown
and Black?”

“Can’t make much of them,” spoke Bob.

“I’d like to know what those tools were,” came from Jerry. “They were
the queerest combination I ever saw on an aeroplane. We carry a lot
on our _Comet_; but nothing like those, and we’ve got twice as much
complicated machinery as those fellows have.”

“Sure,” agreed Ned. “Well, we’ll soon be out in the motorship again if
we conclude to go to the aviation meet; and maybe they’ll have some new
tools on exhibition there.”

“We’ll certainly go,” agreed Jerry. “Automobiling is all right if
you’ve never sailed in the air, but once you have skimmed along above
the clouds--”

“You want to keep at it,” finished Bob. “But say, we mustn’t forget to
stop, and send help out to Noddy. He’s human, even if he has done us
many a mean turn.”

“That’s so. We’ll stop at Mason’s garage and tell them,” suggested
Jerry. “I think----”

But what he was thinking about he never mentioned, for at that moment
he and his chums were aware of a curious throbbing and humming sound
in the air, far above their heads. With one accord they gazed upward,
and the sight they saw caused Jerry suddenly to shut off the power, and
bring the auto to a stop.

“An aeroplane!” exclaimed Ned.

“A biplane,” supplied Bob.

“And going fast, too!” added Jerry. “Say, but they’re eating up the
air-space all right!”

“I wonder if that can be Mr. Jackson?” ventured Ned.

“He’s far enough from here,” declared Jerry, referring to the
millionaire whom they had so thrillingly rescued from his disabled
dirigible balloon over the ocean.

“Whoever it is, he knows how to handle the craft all right,” declared
Ned. “Look at that spiral dip he’s making.”

As he spoke the air machine came down a little way in a corkscrew curve.

“Wait!” exclaimed Jerry impetuously as he reached back in the tonneau
and took from a pocket in the side a pair of powerful field glasses.
“We’ll see what these show,” he went on, as he focused them on the
distant aeroplane.

No sooner had he gotten the aircraft in his range of vision than he
uttered a startled cry.

“What’s the matter?” demanded Ned.

“Some one you know?” asked Bob.

“I don’t know that we have the honor of their acquaintance,” spoke
Jerry slowly, “but if that machine isn’t the _Silver Star_ I’ll buy you
fellows ice cream sodas--that’s all! Here, Ned, have a look.”

Jerry passed his chum the glasses, and no sooner had the merchant’s son
gotten a good view than he exclaimed:

“You’re right! It’s Brown and Black sure enough.”

“You don’t mean to say you can make out faces at that distance,”
exclaimed Bob incredulously. “Let me have a peep.”

“I can’t see their faces,” declared Ned, “but I’m sure it’s them, for
it’s their machine, and they’re so touchy that they wouldn’t let any
one else run it. It’s them sure.”

“I believe you,” commented Jerry. “Those are the two mysterious men we
met at the hotel.”

“I wonder where they’re going?” mused Bob, as he took another look.
“They’re flying high for amateurs.”

“They’ll reach Harmolet if they keep on in that direction long enough,”
declared Ned. “It may be that they’re going to the meet at Colton.”

“It’s too soon for that,” was Jerry’s opinion. “But it certainly is odd
that we should see those fellows again. Let me have another look, Bob.”

It was difficult now, even with the powerful glasses, to discern the
aeroplane, for it was almost hidden in the haze of the upper regions.
In a few seconds more it had entirely disappeared, and Jerry putting up
the field glasses, started the auto.

The boys discussed the curious sight, speculating on the destination of
Brown and Black, and then branched off on matters connected with their
own motorship. By this time they had reached Cresville, and stopped at
a garage, the owner of which promised to send out a powerful car, with
ropes and pulleys, to haul Noddy from the ditch.

“Well, that’s over,” remarked Jerry, as they turned toward the home of
the tall lad, where the auto was kept. “We’ve had plenty of excitement.”

“Enough for one day,” added Ned.

“But it isn’t over yet,” said Bob quickly.

“Why not?” demanded his chums together.

“There comes Andy Rush, and he acts as though he had something to tell
us,” went on the stout lad.

Standing on the sidewalk, just ahead of them, and waving his arms about
like those of a miniature windmill, was a small lad, bearing every
evidence of great nervousness. He was jumping up and down, now running
forward a few steps, and then coming to a halt.

As soon as the motor boys were within hailing distance he called to
them:

“I say--stop--wait a minute--great excitement--maybe somebody
killed--mine blown up perhaps--all the gold gone--maybe someone
wants to buy your motorship--special message--don’t know what’s in
it--fortune for you--maybe--here is it--saw you coming--ran out to stop
you--I have it--open it quick--whoop! up in the air--down again--start
over--here you are!” and with that Andy Rush, for it was indeed he,
passed over to Jerry a yellow envelope--a telegram.

“Are you sure that’s all, Andy?” asked the tall lad gravely.

“Sure--that’s all--agent just gave it to me--I was at the station when
it came in--messenger boys all out--I said I’d take it to you--he gave
me a dime--bought an ice cream soda--maybe it’s bad news--I don’t
know--whoop!”

Andy was wiggling about like an uneasy snake, and he only had one foot
on the ground at a time. Jerry looked at the telegram, saw that it was
addressed to himself, and tore it open.

“Are you sure you’ve got all that out of your system?” inquired Ned of
Andy.

“All of what?” asked the small, excited boy.

“All that talk. Because if you keep any in you might explode,” went on
the merchant’s son.

“Better get another ice cream soda and cool off,” advised Bob, handing
Andy a dime.

“I will--thanks--no bad news I hope--mine all safe--motorship not
busted--I’ll cool down soon--go to the store--drug store--half a dozen
flavors--I always take vanilla--lots of ice cream--here I go--whoop!”
and down the street Andy started on the run.

“Thank goodness he’s gone,” murmured Ned with a sigh of relief. “He
gets on my nerves. But what’s the news, Jerry?”

“Professor Snodgrass will arrive to-morrow,” replied the tall lad
folding up the message. “He’s on the track of some new kind of bug or
beast I suppose. He wants us to meet him at the station.”

“Good!” cried Bob. “Now we’ll have some more fun, and go off after a
mosquito that plays the piano, or something like that, I suppose. Three
cheers for Professor Snodgrass!”

“Say, you’re getting almost as bad as Andy Rush,” commented Jerry, as
he once more started the machine, and steered it into the driveway of
his home.




CHAPTER VI

“HOLD THE TRAIN!”


“What time will the professor get here?” asked Ned, as he and Bob sat
on the broad porch of Mrs. Hopkins’s house.

“On the afternoon train, he says,” replied Jerry.

“And what sort of a bug is he after now?” demanded Bob.

“He doesn’t say. Not that it makes much difference. All is grist that
comes to his mill, and if he can’t get an ant with pink legs, he’ll
take a June bug with purple wings. But be on hand to meet him, fellows,
and we’ll go down to the station together to-morrow afternoon.”

“Say, if he doesn’t get in until then we’ll have time in the morning to
make a flight in the _Comet_,” suggested Bob.

“That’s right. Then we can see what we have to do, to get it in shape
for the Colton meet,” added Ned.

“I’m with you,” declared the tall lad. “Let’s go on out now and have a
look at it. And say--you fellows stay to supper at my house, and we’ll
go all over the _Comet_ this evening.”

“Good idea,” commented Bob, with a sigh of satisfaction. He knew of old
the skill of the Hopkins cook.

“Very good--especially the supper part; eh, Chunky?” put in Ned with a
laugh. “I’ll telephone home, and tell mother that I’m going to stay.”

Bob did the same thing, and after the meal, which Bob declared was
the best he ever ate (though he was always saying that) the boys went
out to the aeroplane shed which was in a large field, owned by Mrs.
Hopkins, and some distance from her house.

“Now Jerry, be careful,” the widow cautioned them as they left. “You
remember once you had trouble at the shed, when Noddy Nixon bound Sud
Snuffles, the watchman, and took the aeroplane away. Look out for bad
characters there. I wish it was nearer the house--especially when night
comes on.”

“Oh, there’ll be no danger from Noddy Nixon to-night mother,” declared
Jerry with a laugh. “Noddy is stuck in the mud too fast to get out
in a hurry,” and he told of the bully’s plight. “But we’ll be on
the lookout. We don’t keep Sud on guard any more.” For following his
unscrupulous theft of the motorship, the bully had been more careful
how he interfered with the property of our heroes, and there was no
necessity of a watchman at the shed.

The boys spent some time going over the motorship. They had not used it
in the past two weeks, on account of bad weather; but they found it in
good shape, and, after a few adjustments and a tightening of the guy
wires, it was ready for service.

“We’ll take a flight in the morning,” decided Jerry, as he and his
chums left the shed, making sure that the doors were securely fastened.

“And maybe we’ll meet that other aeroplane--the _Silver Star_,”
suggested Ned.

“Not much likelihood of that,” declared Bob. “Those fellows are up to
some game, I think.”

“What game?” demanded Jerry quickly.

“Oh, I don’t know,” was the somewhat uncertain reply of the stout lad,
“only I have my suspicions of them.”

“So have I,” admitted Ned, “only I don’t know what I’m suspicious of.”

“Well, I’m going to get to bed,” announced the tall lad with a yawn.
“Be on hand early fellows, and we’ll go off on a little flight.”

Jerry and Ned were on hand in good time at the aeroplane shed the next
morning. They wheeled the craft out into the broad, level starting
place, and proceeded to tighten the few wires they had overlooked the
night before.

As has been told in previous books of this series, the _Comet_ was a
combined dirigible balloon and aeroplane. By means of a powerful gas,
forced into a container above the aeroplane proper, it could ascend as
a balloon, or it could scud along over the ground on bicycle wheels
and, when sufficient momentum had been obtained it could rise by means
of the tilted forward lifting planes, and maintain itself as long as it
was in motion.

“What’s the matter with Bob, I wonder?” remarked Jerry as he went in
the engine room, to look at the motor.

“Oh, probably he’s eating his second breakfast,” replied Ned, who was
inspecting the gas machine.

“She isn’t making vapor very fast,” spoke Jerry, as he looked at the
dial of the containing tank, and noted how much of the lifting gas was
in storage.

“No, it needs a new valve,” decided Ned. “But we can go up as an
aeroplane, and by the time we get up a mile or two there’ll be gas
enough.”

The _Comet_ was a roomy craft. There was a good-sized dining room,
plenty of sleeping apartments, a storeroom, a large motor compartment,
a neat little galley or kitchen, where Bob spent much of his time, and
a living room, where they all gathered during the day to read, talk or
make observations as they scudded through space, high above the earth.

“I wish Bob would come, if he’s going to get here,” went on Jerry. “He
is always more or less late. We won’t have time to get anywhere before
we have to be back again to meet the professor.”

“There he comes now,” exclaimed Ned, as he caught sight of a stocky
figure hurrying across the field. “And by Jove, if he isn’t swallowing
the last of his breakfast on the run! He must have overslept.”

“What’s the matter, Chunky?” asked Jerry, as his chum approached,
panting from his unusual speed.

“One of our rabbits got loose--had to chase it--might eat up the
neighbors’ fruit trees--never saw such a rabbit--thought I had it in
the cage half a dozen times--but it got out--that’s what made me late.”

“But you stopped to get your breakfast,” observed Ned, as he saw traces
of egg on Bob’s fat good-natured face.

“Sure I did! What do you think I am? Going off on a flight without
something to eat! I had a good breakfast, and I brought along a package
of grub--I was afraid you fellows would forget it.”

“Oh, Chunky!” cried Jerry with a hopeless laugh. “Will you ever get
over your appetite?”

“I certainly hope not,” declared Bob earnestly.

He stowed away in a locker the food he had brought, and then helped his
chums in getting the _Comet_ ready for a flight. This was soon done.
The sharp nose of the craft was pointed down the long smooth starting
slope, and the motor started. The big propellers whirred around like
the blades of an electric fan, and the motorship quivered from end to
end. The engine increased its speed under the skilful handling of Jerry
Hopkins, and then, with a rush, the trim air machine glided forward.

Faster and faster it forged ahead, the motor thundering with its rapid
explosions. Just as Jerry was about to tilt the lifting planes, there
came a faint hail from back near the shed.

“Hold on--wait--give me a ride--I’ve got some news!”

“It’s Andy Rush!” exclaimed Ned.

“We can’t stop now!” shouted Jerry. “Here we go!”

He yanked the plane lever toward him. Up went the nose of the _Comet_,
and the next instant she was sailing gracefully through the air,
mounting higher and higher.

“Works better than ever,” was Bob’s opinion.

“Yes, I wish we had time to go to the lake, and try the hydroplanes,”
said Jerry, “but we haven’t. I rather like landing on the water and
starting from the surface. It’s smoother than a land start.”

The hydroplanes, as I related in a previous volume, were a new feature
of the _Comet_, and worked well.

It was no novelty to our heroes to sail about through the air, and
as soon as they were up sufficiently high they settled back to enjoy
themselves. The gas machine had by this time generated enough vapor,
so that they could float lazily along if they wished, or even hang in
space without moving, save as the wind blew them.

“Let’s look around and see if we can sight the _Silver Star_,” proposed
Ned, as he took down from the rack a small but powerful telescope.

“Oh, you’ll have your trouble for your pains,” declared Jerry, and
so it proved. The strange biplane containing the two mysterious men
was not in sight. In fact no other air craft was visible, and, after
sailing around for several hours, and having their lunch about three
miles above the earth, our heroes descended, and stored their craft in
the shed once more.

“Wonder what Andy wanted?” mused Jerry.

“We’ll soon know,” said Bob. “Here he comes now.” The excitable lad was
observed hurrying toward the three chums.

“Why didn’t you wait?” he demanded. “I had something to tell you--great
news--he’ll smash all to pieces--whoop! up in the air--down again--race
you motor boys--whoop!”

“He? Who are you talking about?” demanded Ned.

“Noddy Nixon. He’s going to get an aeroplane and race you fellows--big
excitement--going to some balloon meet--whoop!” and Andy hopped up and
down on one foot.

“Hump! Noddy must be up to some more of his tricks!” exclaimed Jerry.
“Well, if he bothers us as he did once before he’ll get what’s coming
to him.”

“I shouldn’t think he’d want to risk any more air flights,” ventured
Ned, “especially when he can hardly run his auto.”

“Well, we’ll see what happens,” went on the tall chum. “Whew!” he
whistled as he looked at his watch. “We haven’t more than time to get
down to the station before the professor’s train will be in. We don’t
want to disappoint him. Sprint for it, fellows, and we’ll get to my
house and go down in the auto. Come along Andy, if you like.”

“Sure I’ll go--anything for excitement--I can run--let me steer--blow
up a tire--whoop!” and the excitable lad was off on a run with the
older boys.

They reached the station a little before the train pulled in, and
waited on the platform while a crowd of passengers alighted. Among them
was a little man, rather slight in build, wearing a pair of very strong
glasses. He had on a broad-brimmed soft hat, and around his shoulders
and hanging down his back were a number of insect specimen boxes, held
by straps or cords, while in one hand he carried a large butterfly net.

“There’s Professor Snodgrass!” exclaimed Jerry. “Now to hear what new
quest he is on.”

“He looks the same as when he caught the flying-singing fish,” remarked
Ned.

“He never changes--he’s like a mummy,” declared Bob.

The little scientist caught sight of his three young friends, and gaily
waved his hand, smiling a greeting. He advanced to meet them, passing
close to the panting locomotive. As he did so there came two shrill
blasts of the air whistle, indicating to the engineer that he was ready
to start.

At that instant Professor Snodgrass happened to glance beneath the big
driving wheels. In a moment he was all excitement. His face lighted up,
off came his big hat, and, rapidly divesting himself of his many boxes
he dropped on his knees close beside the rails.

“What’s the matter?” cried Jerry.

“He’ll be killed!” yelled Bob.

“Look out!” shouted Ned.

“The man has been taken with a fit! Pull him away from the engine!”
begged the station master.

The professor heeded none of the cries. Raising himself slightly, he
waved his hand to the engineer who, after pulling the throttle partly
open, was leaning from the cab window. The ponderous locomotive was
moving slowly.

“Stop the train! Stop it!” commanded the scientist. “Stop it or
you’ll kill him! Stop it I say!” and he fairly shook his fist at the
astonished engineer.




CHAPTER VII

A CURIOUS RACE


“What’s the matter?”

“Is anybody killed?”

“Oh, there’s some one under the locomotive! A child!”

“I’m going to faint! I know I’m going to faint!” exclaimed a very fat
lady, making her voice heard above the others who had given utterance
to the excited expressions. “Catch me, some one!”

But as no one seemed capable of sustaining her weight, the fat lady
concluded not to faint. Meanwhile there was considerable excitement,
for the professor continued to kneel beside the locomotive, making
signals to the engineer to bring the ponderous machine to a stop.

And the engineer did. With a face that went white under its coating
of oil and grime he slapped on the air brakes with a suddenness that
brought the train up with a smashing bang. Then, as the released air
hissed through the valves, the driver leaned from the cab window and
hoarsely asked:

“How’d he get under there? I didn’t see him. Did I run over him?”

“Not quite, but almost!” exclaimed Professor Snodgrass, as he reached
under the great driving wheels and lifted something out. “It was a
narrow escape. If you had run over this bug you would have killed it
sure, and it’s worth at least seven dollars for my collection.”

“Bug!” fairly yelled the engineer. “Do you mean to say you made all
that fuss, and stopped the train on account of a bug?”

“Certainly,” replied the scientist coolly. “It is a very rare specimen
of a red beetle, seldom seen in this part of the country. I saw it on
the track just as you were about to run over it. Fortunately I stopped
you in time,” and he carefully put the beetle in one of his specimen
boxes, and looked around for the boys.

“Stopped me in time! I should say you did!” gasped the now angry
engineer. “I slapped on the emergency air when I heard you yelling
that way. I thought it was a kid under the machine. And all for a
bug--a bug! I guess that ain’t the _only_ bug around here, either,”
and he looked significantly at the professor who, however, was calmly
unconscious of the glance. “Can I start now?” sarcastically enquired
the engineer, “or is there more live stock under my driving wheels?
Hey?”

“No more--unfortunately,” replied the professor, with great good
nature, after a glance under the locomotive, to make certain. “I wish
there was, but I will have to be content with this one. Now boys, I’m
glad to see you,” and he turned to greet the three chums, who up to
this time had been too surprised at the sudden and odd turn of events
to speak to their friend.

“We’re glad to see you!” exclaimed Jerry, holding out his hand.

“And I you!” cried the scientist. “I always have good luck when I’m
with you boys, and it has started early this time.”

“So we see,” observed Ned.

“You haven’t changed any since our last trip,” remarked Bob. “You’re
still after specimens.”

“And I will be, as long as I can see, and handle my butterfly net,”
declared Mr. Snodgrass. “Ah, there is our little excitable friend, Andy
Rush. Glad to see you, Andy.”

“How are you Mr. Snodgrass? My--a bug on the rail--almost run
over--great excitement--woman nearly fainted--slam on the breaks--blow
up the boiler--hold down the safety valve--sand the tracks--get the
bug--whoop!”

“Yes--er--ah--um!” murmured the professor, looking over the top of his
spectacles at Andy. “You haven’t changed either.”

“We’ve got the auto all ready for you,” explained Jerry, as he led the
way to the waiting car. “You came in good season, Professor Snodgrass,
as we’re about to start off on another little air-trip.”

“Not over the ocean I hope this time,” exclaimed the scientist, “for
the specimen I am now after is not to be found at sea. So if you’re
going over the water I’m afraid I can’t be with you.”

“What are you after this trip?” asked Ned.

“A green flying frog,” explained the professor gravely. “The museum
by which I am employed needs one of these rare specimens, and I have
engaged to spend my entire vacation looking for it. They are only to be
found inland, however, and, so far as is known, such frogs only exist
in Java. But I have made a study of the creature, and I see no reason
why it should not be discovered in this country, especially farther
west, in some of the great forests.

“This frog has a sort of membrane between its legs, like a flying
squirrel, and in addition to that feature it has the power of changing
its color like the chameleon. Ordinarily it is light green on top, and
white on the under parts, but it may become orange-hued, or even pink
or brown. I have great hopes of finding one, and if I do, I will be
richly repaid for my trouble, and our museum will have a great prize.”

“Well, I don’t know as we’re going any place where there are flying
frogs,” said Jerry, “but we are going to an aviation meet, and after
that we have made no plans. We’d be glad to have you go with us.”

“I’ll certainly go,” promised the professor, as they got in the auto,
and started toward Jerry’s house, where the little scientist was to
make a visit. “Do you suppose you’ll head for the middle west?”

“Very likely,” said Bob. “We haven’t been out there in some time, and
it might be well to make a trip to see how our gold mine is coming on.”

“Oh, I guess it’s going all right,” came from Jerry, as he speeded up
the car. “We get our dividends regularly.”

The professor was busy arranging his specimen boxes about him in
the tonneau of the car, where he sat with Bob and Andy Rush. The
long-handled butterfly net was thrust down behind the lap-robe rail,
and the cloth part fluttered in the air like a flag of distress,
causing on the part of pedestrians several curious glances at the auto.
But the professor little cared for that.

“Would you mind slackening speed somewhat,” begged the scientist as
they neared Jerry’s house.

“Why?” inquired the tall youth.

“Well, I can’t tell whether or not we are passing any valuable insects
on the bushes,” explained the professor, as he peered through his
powerful spectacles at the shrubbery that lined the roadway. “I must
lose no chances of getting specimens,” he innocently explained, “so I
thought if you could run more slowly I might sight a rare bug or worm:
Ha--there! Stop if you please, Jerry!”

Jerry brought the car up with a jerk, and, almost before it had ceased
moving the professor was out, and had darted to a blackberry bush, net
in hand.

He made a swoop, gathered a part of the net in his fingers, looked
closely at what was in it, and then exclaimed:

“Oh, pshaw! it’s only a common June bug. I thought I had a seven
winged dragon fly. Go ahead Jerry. I hope I have better luck when I
look for the flying frog?”

During this time Andy Rush had said little, but the manner in which he
fidgeted about on the seat, and the way in which his lips moved, showed
that he was holding something back with a great effort.

Jerry swung the car up in front of his house, and as he and his chums
and their guest alighted, the excitable little chap asked:

“Say, professor, is there really a flying frog--one that sails through
the air--like an aeroplane--over the trees--’round in a circle--faster
and faster--is there really--whoop!”

Andy ended up with a vigorous swinging of his arms. The professor
looked curiously at him, and then, without a word, made a jump for the
small chap.

Surprise manifested on his face, Andy leaped back out of reach of the
butterfly net that was extended toward him. The scientist took another
forward step. Andy leaped back still more, and then, as if alarmed at
the manner of the bug-collector, the boy turned and ran down the street.

“Hold on! Come back here at once! I want you! You must not get away
from me! Stop I say!”

The race was on, each one running at top speed.

“Don’t let him catch me! Don’t!” yelled Andy, working his legs to their
limit. “I didn’t mean anything! I wasn’t making fun of the flying frog!
Don’t catch me!”

“Stop! Stop I say!” ordered the professor imperiously.

“By Jove!” exclaimed Jerry. “The professor is angry at Andy. He thinks
he’s been making game of him. If he catches him he may hurt the little
fellow.”

“What, the professor? He wouldn’t hurt a fly unless he wanted it for a
specimen,” spoke Ned.

“Maybe that’s what he wants of Andy--he’s so little,” ventured Bob.

“Well, he’ll soon have him at the rate he’s going,” predicted Jerry,
for the scientist was now almost up to the small fellow, who was still
begging to be let alone, while the professor was shouting:

“Stop! Stop I say! Come back here at once!”




CHAPTER VIII

NODDY’S AEROPLANE


How long the race might have continued no one could have told, but
unfortunately several pedestrians got in the path of Andy and he was
forced to slacken speed. His youth and fleetness gave him an advantage,
but the professor was used to chasing after flitting butterflies and
elusive insects, and this training stood him in good stead. So in a few
minutes he caught up to Andy, and grasped him by the shoulder.

“Did it get away? Is it still on you?” Jerry and his chums heard the
scientist ask the small chap.

“Did what get away? Is what still on me?” gasped Andy. “Didn’t you--?”
Words failed him. He could only look and pant.

“Ha! I have it!” cried the professor. “The little beauty didn’t get
away. One moment, Andy, and I’ll secure it.”

He made a sudden motion, and caught something that had been perched on
the small lad’s shoulder.

“A red ant, one of the largest of its kind, and a very fine specimen,”
observed the professor, as he carefully put the insect in a small box
that he took from his pocket. “You have unconsciously been a great aid
to the advancement of science to-day, Andy. That red ant is worth at
least five dollars.”

“A red ant! Five dollars!” gasped Andy Rush. “Is that why you were
chasing me?”

“Yes, to be sure. What else did you think I was running after you for?”
demanded Mr. Snodgrass.

“I thought--that is--the flying frog--I thought that you thought I
was--Oh, I guess it’s all right!” exclaimed the small chap quickly.
“You jumped at me so I was afraid I had offended you.”

“Offended me? I guess not, especially when you had a valuable red ant
on you!” cried the professor heartily.

“You thought he was going to scalp you; didn’t you, Andy?” asked Ned in
a low voice.

“That’s what I did! I couldn’t stand for that green flying frog. I
thought he was making a joke, and I was going to say something funny.
I’m glad I didn’t--but he scared me just the same.”

“The professor never jokes,” said Bob. “If he says there is a flying
frog you can depend on it that there is one.”

“Come on in, fellows,” invited Jerry to Ned and Bob, as they reached
his house. “We’ll hear what the professor has to say about his plans
for catching the flying frog, and then we’ll tell him what we are going
to do. We’ll have to make up some sort of a program.”

The next hour was spent in talk, the scientist giving some facts about
the curious frog, which he stated, could glide from the ground to low
bushes and down again, in search of its insect food.

“But what about this aviation meet?” asked the professor. “I must not
be selfish and monopolize all the talk.”

They told him of their plans, and also mentioned meeting the two queer
men--Brown and Black.

“If we run across them at the meet I’m going to give them a wide
berth,” declared Ned. “I don’t cotton to ’em.”

“Me either,” agreed Jerry.

“And so your old enemy, Noddy Nixon, is also to have an aeroplane?”
asked the professor, that fact having been mentioned. “Do you expect to
race with him?”

“Not if we can avoid it,” declared Jerry. “He may enter his craft in
the meet though, but we haven’t seen anything of it as yet. Perhaps
it’s only a rumor.”

But it was more than that, as our friends found a few days later, when
as they went down to the freight office to get some duplicate parts for
their motor, which they had ordered from the factory, they saw several
large packing cases on the platform. The boxes were addressed to Noddy
Nixon, and were marked--“Fragile--Handle with Care.”

“Maybe that’s his aeroplane that Andy Rush was telling us about,”
suggested Bob.

“Shouldn’t wonder,” agreed Jerry. “Let’s see if we can tell where it’s
from. There are several firms making them now.”

They saw no harm in looking at the shipping tag to ascertain what type
of aircraft Noddy was getting, and they had just located the card,
tacked on the end of one of the boxes, when a rough voice exclaimed:

“Here, get away from there! What are you trying to do; damage our
machine?”

The boys turned quickly to observe the unprepossessing countenance of
Bill Berry gazing at them. He had come up unheard.

“Your machine?” murmured Jerry.

“Yes, mine--mine and Noddy’s. I’ve got an interest in it. It can carry
two. You needn’t think you’re the only ones in town with an aeroplane,”
and Bill sneered.

“We were just looking to see where it came from,” said Bob.

“You needn’t give yourselves the trouble,” went on the bully’s crony.
“Just keep away from our property. We can do all the looking that’s
necessary.”

“What’s the matter? What were they doing?” demanded the angry voice of
Noddy himself, as he came quickly from the direction of the freight
office, and mounted the platform. He had gone to sign a receipt for his
property. “What were they doing, Bill?”

“Oh, snooping around, as usual.”

“That’s not so!” cried Ned hotly.

“Say, if you bother with my aeroplane I’ll have you arrested!”
threatened Noddy, with a bluster. “I intend to make a lot of flights,
and if you get in my way there’ll be trouble.”

“Don’t worry; we’ll take good care to keep out of your way,” said
Jerry significantly. “Come on, fellows. And the next time Noddy gets in
a mud hole we’ll let him stick.”

“I guess Noddy means business as far as flying goes,” remarked Ned,
when they were on their way home. “That firm he bought his machine from
makes good aeroplanes.”

“Yes, he’ll fly if he doesn’t break it the first time he goes out,”
said Jerry. “Well, he needn’t trouble us--there’s plenty space to fly
in. We’ll go off on a little trip, and take the professor with us when
we get the motor fixed.” For the engine of the _Comet_ had developed a
slight defect, and it was decided to remedy it before going to the meet.

In the meanwhile the boys worked on other parts of their air machine,
while Professor Snodgrass put in his time seeking various insects in
Cresville. He had agreed to go to the aeroplane meet with the boys, and
later they planned to take a short flight out West, to see if there
was any truth in the Professor’s theory that the flying frog might be
discovered there.

They heard some reports of Noddy’s aeroplane. An expert from the
factory where it was made had come on to Cresville to assemble it, and
also to give Noddy lessons in running it. Noddy knew something of
aeronautics, though his first attempt at flight in his tin fly had been
most disastrous.

“He means business,” said Jerry one day to his chums. “I went past
yesterday afternoon, and Andy and Bill were making a trip over Mr.
Nixon’s big meadow. Noddy will fly all right.”

“Did he go up high?” inquired Bob.

“Not very. He was just about snipping the tops off the daisies--regular
grass-cutting work. Afraid to go up, I guess. But say, I thought of
making a trip to-morrow. Will you fellows come?”

“Sure,” agreed Ned. “We’ll take the professor, too. He hasn’t had a
ride since he came.”

“Can’t we take considerable food along, and stay several days?” asked
Bob.

“No, it’s too near the time for the meet,” decided Jerry. “There are
several little changes I want to make in the _Comet_ before we enter
her for a prize, and if we go scooting off around the country we can’t
get them done. Besides, there’s always the danger of an accident that
might put us out of the race. We’ll postpone our trip until after the
meet.”

His companions agreed with him, and the next morning, in company with
the professor, they started off on a day’s flight, planning to return
to Cresville before nightfall.

“Noddy Nixon went off in his machine early this morning,” was the
information Andy Rush brought when he appeared at the big shed, for he
had been invited to make the trip with our heroes.

“He did, eh?” spoke Ned. “Well, I guess he won’t go far. Come on now,
Andy, hop in. We’re ready to start.”

The professor, carrying a number of specimen boxes, and an extra
long-handled net with which he hoped to capture insects of the upper
regions, entered the cabin of the _Comet_. Jerry was in the pilot
house, with Ned and Bob standing by to give their aid.

“Let her go!” cried the tall lad, as he turned on the power, while
Ned turned over the auxiliary fly wheel that was connected with the
big propellers. They whirred around with great swiftness, the _Comet_
skimmed lightly over the ground, and a moment later had mounted easily
up into the air.

“Whoop! La-la!” cried Andy Rush. “Here we go! Up in the air! Never say
die! Never come down! Go on like the _Flying Dutchman_! Whoop! La-la!”




CHAPTER IX

A DISASTROUS FLIGHT


Higher and higher soared the _Comet_, mounting upward on the wings of
the wind until it was more than a mile in the air. Then Jerry brought
her to a level keel, and turned on more power.

“Where you heading for?” asked Ned, noting that the machinery was
running almost at the limit of speed. “What’s the haste, Jerry? Are you
trying for a record?”

“Not especially, though we might as well hit it up to see how the
renovated motor works.”

“It works fine, if you ask me,” came from Bob. “We haven’t traveled so
fast since we were after Mr. Jackson. But then I guess if we’re going
to try for a prize at the meet we’ll need speed.”

“That’s one reason,” conceded Jerry. “Another is, that I’m going to try
to get to Lake Martin and back before night.”

“Ha! I see your game!” cried Ned. “You haven’t had a chance to try the
hydroplanes lately, and you are afraid they won’t work.”

“Not at all afraid of that,” declared the tall lad, “but I _do_ want to
give them another try-out.”

“It’s quite a trip to Lake Martin and back again--especially when we
haven’t much food aboard,” ventured Bob.

“Oh, what’s the matter with you, Chunky?” cried Jerry. “You’re always
thinking of eating. Forget it once in a while. We can easily make the
lake, and be back for supper.”

“If we don’t have any accidents,” put in the fat boy, somewhat
dubiously. “I’m going to see what we have got in the galley,” and
despite the laughing objections of his companions he departed to
inspect the larder. He came back grinning cheerfully.

“Well?” asked Ned.

“Enough for a week!” exclaimed Bob in satisfied tones. “I forgot that
we stocked up the other day. It’s all right. Go as far as you like.”

It was quite a trip to Lake Martin, but Jerry knew the _Comet_ could
easily make it. They had gone farther than that in one day, and he
wanted to try the hydroplanes on a large body of fresh water. He knew,
or was practically certain, that they would work all right, but they
had not been used since the trip over the ocean, when the boys rescued
Mr. Jackson.

It was about an hour after they had started, and the _Comet_, was
speeding swiftly along, when Mr. Snodgrass quickly arose from his seat
amidships, and with a cry of delight, rushed toward the stern of the
craft.

“There’s one!” he exclaimed. “One of the upper-air mosquitoes. Look
out, Bob, and I’ll get him!”

With uplifted net the scientist headed for the very end of the _Comet_.
Buzzing just out of his reach was a large insect, and so intent on its
capture was Mr. Snodgrass that he never noticed his own danger.

The rear of the airship ended in a sort of open deck or platform, that
was used for various purposes. Usually a stout iron railing enclosed
it, but, in order to make some changes, this railing had been taken
down, and had not been replaced, though Jerry intended to do it before
going to the meet. But now the end of the craft was unprotected, and
the professor was running quickly toward it.

Eager as he was to capture the insect, there was every likelihood that
he would hurl himself off into space if he was not stopped. Ned saw
his danger and yelled:

“Professor! Professor! Stop! The railing is down! Look out!”

The scientist either did not hear or did not heed, but kept on.

“Stop the ship! Stop her! Send her down! He’ll be killed if he falls!”
cried Ned to Jerry. There was little doubt of this, for the _Comet_ was
now two miles above the earth.

The professor was now within ten feet of the end of the platform, and
it seemed that nothing could save him. But Ned and Jerry, who were
looking with horror in their eyes at their friend, reckoned without
Bob. The stout lad was on the after part of the motorship, at one
edge of the platform. He looked up as he heard the cries, and saw the
scientist coming. Then Bob acted.

Instead of calling to Mr. Snodgrass, the fat lad fairly rolled out
directly in his path, and lay there. There could be but one result. The
professor, his eyes fixed on the insect that was fluttering before him,
did not see Bob. But he could not avoid him.

The next instant he had stumbled over him, and went down in a heap,
about four feet from the end of the platform, his net slipping from
his grasp, and falling off into space.

“Ugh!” grunted Bob, as the breath was knocked from him by the impact
with the professor.

“Oh, my dear boy! Did I hurt you?” exclaimed the scientist as he slowly
arose.

“Not--not much,” gasped the fat youth.

“Oh dear! My best net is gone! And the insect has disappeared!”
lamented Mr. Snodgrass.

“And in another minute _you_ would have disappeared!” declared Jerry
half angrily. “You must not take such chances, Professor. Only for Bob
you would have been killed.”

“Well, I’m much obliged to Bob, I’m sure,” said Mr. Snodgrass with
a curious air. “Very much obliged. I wonder where I can get another
handle for the new butterfly net which I must make?”

“And that’s all he thinks about his narrow escape,” commented Ned.
“Say, he’ll give us heart disease if he keeps on this way.”

“A miss is as good as two miles,” observed Bob, as he rubbed his
hip where the professor had fallen on him. “I’m glad he didn’t go
overboard,” he added as he looked at the earth far below them.

The professor, after thinking the matter over, began to realize what
he had escaped, and shook hands warmly with Bob. Then he forgot all
about the matter, in the work of making a new handle for another net he
constructed out of some thin cloth.

Meanwhile the _Comet_ was speeding on, and in less time than our heroes
expected they were at Lake Martin. Jerry sent the craft down to the
surface of the water, and landed on the hydroplanes. Then, setting the
water-screw in motion, he directed the motorship about on the lake, to
the no small amazement of some motor-boat enthusiasts who were there.
Dinner was eaten afloat, and after giving the professor a chance to
look for the flying frog, but without success, preparations were made
for the return.

“I told you we could make the trip easily in a day,” observed Jerry to
his chums, as, toward the close of the afternoon, they were nearing
Cresville.

“Yes, the _Comet_ is doing herself proud,” declared Ned. “I hope we
take a prize with her at Colton.”

“Sure we will,” insisted Bob, who was feeling very fine because of a
good dinner.

“We wouldn’t if we depended on you,” said Jerry, “though I must say
you keep us up to the mark on grub,” and the fat lad grinned in
appreciation of this compliment.

They were about three miles from home, and were slowing up their speed,
and coming down on a long slant, when Ned, who was looking from the
window of the pilot house suddenly exclaimed:

“There’s another aeroplane down there, fellows!”

“Where?” demanded Bob.

“Hovering over that meadow. See, it’s a big biplane, too.”

They looked and saw the white planes of a large aircraft.

“It’s a new one--see how white the canvas is,” commented Jerry.

“Looks just like the _Silver Star_,” put in Bob. “Maybe Brown and Black
have come to apologize to us.”

“Not much,” answered Ned grimly.

“Say, fellows, that’s Noddy Nixon!” cried Andy Rush, who, strange to
say, had been rather quiet on this trip. “He has a biplane.”

“So he has,” agreed Jerry. “I shouldn’t be surprised if it was Noddy,
boys.”

“Let’s go down and see,” proposed Bob. Accordingly the _Comet_ was
headed for the strange aircraft which was slowly skimming along over
the big meadow, at no great distance above the ground. There were two
figures in it, as our friends could observe, and they were guiding the
aeroplane about in easy circles and figures of eight.

“It’s Noddy all right,” declared Jerry, when they had come near enough
to make out the occupants of the machine, “and Bill Berry is with him.”

“Let’s watch him for a while,” suggested Bob, and his tall chum shut
off the propellers, let some gas blow from the compressor into the big
bag, so that the _Comet_ floated in the air like a balloon, at some
distance above the slowly-moving aeroplane of Noddy Nixon.

The bully and his crony had noticed the air-audience and, probably to
show off, they increased the speed of their craft, though they did not
ascend any.

“Guess they’re afraid,” remarked Ned.

Then Andy Rush did something, which, if his companions could have
anticipated they would have prevented. Leaning over the side of the
_Comet_, and directing his voice at Noddy and Bill, he loudly shouted:

“Hey, why don’t you go up? Don’t be afraid! Be sports! Come on up, the
air is fine! Show us what you can do!”

Whether Noddy imagined it was one of the motor boys calling thus
mockingly to him was not learned, but at any rate the bully retorted:

“Huh! afraid, are we? I’ll show you!”

There was an increase to the speed of his motor, as our friends could
tell by the more rapid explosions, and the new aeroplane, boastfully
named the _Winner_, shot upward.

“We’ll show you what we can do!” cried Bill Berry. “Go right over their
heads, Noddy!”

“I will!” declared Noddy, and he pointed the nose of his craft straight
at the _Comet_ on an upward slant.

“He’s coming for us!” cried Ned.

“He may hit us!” added Bob.

“Not much danger I guess,” replied Jerry. “He ought to be able to steer
well out of the way.”

But the _Winner_ did seem to be coming alarmingly close to the _Comet_,
and even Jerry was a bit apprehensive.

“Guess I’ll get some steerage way on, and move up a bit, fellows,”
decided the tall lad. But before he could do this something happened.

The _Winner_ was coming on rapidly. The malevolent faces of Noddy and
Bill could be made out now. They were both grinning.

“We’ll cut over your heads all right!” boasted Noddy. “We’ll show you
how to fly.”

An instant later the nose of the _Winner_ was tilted upward still more,
as Noddy shifted his rudder. It seemed as if the new craft would clear
the _Comet_, and that Noddy would make good his boast.

But just as Jerry got the propellers in motion, and as the motorship
was slowly moving to one side the _Winner_ topped her. Right over the
heads of our heroes flew Noddy.

Then came an ominous ripping, tearing sound, a hissing as from
compressed air, and the _Comet_ began to sink.

“He’s torn a hole in our gas bag! We’re going down!” yelled Jerry, as
he leaped toward the motor room. “Ned--Bob! Start the vapor machine or
we’ll crash to earth!”




CHAPTER X

SUSPICIOUS CONVERSATION


There was intense excitement aboard the _Comet_. So, for that matter,
was there also on the _Winner_, for at first Noddy and Bill did not
know but that their own craft had been damaged. But, as they kept on
rising, in response to the uptilted rudder, Noddy was sure they were
all right. He quickly brought his craft up on a level keel, and then
swept around in a big circle to see what was happening to the _Comet_.

“Lively, boys!” cried Jerry. “Turn on the machine at full speed, Ned,
and that will check us until we can get under way,” for they were
motionless when the accident occurred.

Ned had acted the instant he heard Jerry’s call, and now a double
quantity of the lifting gas was pouring into the ripped bag.

Though the rent was a large one, the bag was made in a number of
compartments, so that only the two that were ripped open by the
_Winner_ lost their vapor. The others were more fully distended and
served to check the downward rush of the airship.

After a sickening plunge the _Comet_ gradually slowed up in her
descent, and when within a few hundred feet of the earth she glided
ahead as an aeroplane, her propellers forcing her onward.

But there was not chance enough to get up much momentum, and, as they
ran into an adverse current of air, which continued to force them
earthward, and, as for some reason the main motor was not working well,
Jerry concluded to make a full descent, so he could see what damage had
been done, and then rise again.

“Stand by to make a landing!” he called to his chums; and a moment
later the _Comet_ came to rest on the level green meadow while above
her the _Winner_ winged her flight through the air.

“Well, wouldn’t that jar you!” exclaimed Ned in great disgust.

“I should say so,” remarked Bob. “It’s just like Noddy Nixon’s
freshness. He ought to learn how to run an aeroplane in the
kindergarten class before he comes out with the high school boys.”

“I’ll make him pay for our damaged bag!” declared Jerry firmly. “He
ought to have known better than to try that stunt. I’ll make him soak
up for it all right.”

The boys were standing beside their craft, and Jerry was peering upward
trying to discover the extent of the tear in the gas bag.

“I’m afraid it was all my fault,” said Andy Rush, more quietly than he
usually spoke. “If I hadn’t challenged Noddy the way I did it might not
have happened.”

“Oh, well, you didn’t mean anything,” consoled Ned. “Besides, Noddy
might have done it anyhow. Even if you did call to him he ought to have
known better than to try to cross over us so close. I guess Bill Berry
put him up to it. Don’t worry Andy. Is it very bad, Jerry?”

The tall lad had climbed up in the rigging that held the bag, and was
critically examining it.

“Two of the compartments are all ripped to pieces, and there’s a
small tear in a third one,” Jerry reported. “We’ll have to put on big
patches. I’ll make Noddy pay for this.”

“Can we get home?” asked Bob.

“Of course. You forget that as an aeroplane we’re as good as ever,”
responded Ned. “Say, look at Noddy though, he’s flying high.”

Indeed, the bully and his crony were making a successful flight, and
were now but a mere speck in the sky.

“He’s doing better than I ever expected he would,” remarked Jerry. “I
hope he steers clear of us after this. He needs half the upper region
to navigate in. If he goes to the Colton meet we won’t enter any of the
events he’s in.”

“I should say not!” exclaimed Ned earnestly.

There was nothing that could be done toward repairing the _Comet_ now,
so, after letting all the gas out of the bag, and seeing to the defect
in the main motor, which was in the ignition system, the boys made
ready to fly home as an aeroplane.

The propellers were started, and the motorship skimmed over the meadow.
It was rather an uneven course, and the boys were pretty well jolted
up, but they managed to acquire enough speed to lift their craft, and
once in the air the machine soared high. In ten minutes they were in
front of the hangar, and the _Comet_ had been wheeled inside.

“Are you really going to tackle Noddy about paying for the damage?”
asked Ned, as he walked beside Jerry toward the latter’s house.

“I sure am! I’m going over there to-night, and if he won’t pay I’ll
see his father. It’s time that bully found out that he can’t have
everything his own way.”

“Want Bob or me to come along?”

“No, I think I can do better alone, thanks. If we all go we might get
into a quarrel. I’ll tackle him alone.”

In accordance with his plan, Jerry set off that evening, leaving
Professor Snodgrass at home classifying some of the specimens he had
caught that day. There were many lights in the Nixon mansion, which was
set in the midst of extensive grounds, for Mr. Nixon was quite wealthy.

“Looks as if they had company,” mused Jerry. “I guess I’ll find Noddy
home. He always is if there’s any eating going on--like Bob,” and he
smiled in the darkness.

But Noddy was not at home--at least, that is what the maid said who
answered Jerry’s ring. The tall lad was right in his surmise that
something was going on at the Nixon home, for he could see many guests
in the parlors, and he caught the strains of music.

“Is Mr. Nixon in?” he asked, determined to make an appeal to Noddy’s
father.

“He is, but he’s very busy. I doubt if he’ll see you,” was the reply,
and, after thinking it over Jerry concluded that it was an inopportune
time to make his demand.

“I’ll see him to-morrow,” he said as he turned away.

The shed where Noddy kept his aeroplane was some distance from the
house, but on the same street, for Mr. Nixon owned a large piece of
property adjoining his residence. It was in front of this shed that
Jerry found himself a few minutes later.

He gazed up at the big, dark building, and his thoughts were not very
pleasant as he recalled the damage the bully had done to the _Comet_
that afternoon.

“I wonder where Noddy is?” mused the tall lad. “He and Bill are
probably off somewhere together. I wonder if he could be in here?”

Jerry paused. There was no light visible in the shed, and our hero
was about to pass on, when something--some impulse he could not
define,--caused him to turn and advance a little way inside the fence
that surrounded the building. The gate was open.

“Oh, pshaw! They can’t be in there,” thought Jerry. “I might as well go
home.”

But at that instant there came to his ears the sound of voices in
cautious conversation. He listened intently.

“I tell you it’s too risky,” he heard some one say, and in a moment he
knew it was the tones of Bill Berry.

“Oh get out! You’re afraid!” retorted Noddy Nixon. “We can easily do
it, and get safely away.”

“But the police?” objected Bill.

“Bah! They’ll never suspect that we’re going to do anything like that.
And, even if they do we’ll have the job done and get away before they
know anything about it. I tell you it’s perfectly safe. Isn’t it worth
trying for?”

“Yes, I s’pose it is--but if we’re nabbed?”

“We won’t be I tell you,” and Noddy seemed half angry. “Most of the
police will be at the Colton meet, anyhow.”

“Do you think you can handle the machine well enough?” asked Bill.

“I know I can. Look what I did to-day.”

“Yes, you did cut it pretty fine,” admitted Bill.

“And I guess I gave those fellows a scare they won’t soon forget!”
chuckled Noddy.

Jerry clenched his hands in anger. But he was not yet ready to make his
presence known.

“Then you’ll go in with me on it?” asked Noddy, after a pause.

“Oh, I suppose so. If we’re caught it can’t be----”

“We’ll not get caught!” declared Noddy again. “The Harmolet police are
too sleepy for anything like that to happen. There’ll be a big surprise
when they wake up in the morning and find it gone,” and he chuckled
again.

Then the voices died away, and it seemed as if the two cronies had gone
inside the shed, outside of which they had evidently been standing in
the darkness when Jerry overheard their conversation.

The tall lad hesitated a moment, uncertain what to do. Then he murmured:

“I guess I won’t say anything to Noddy to-night. I’ll wait and see what
sort of a game he’s up to. It sounds suspicious to me.”




CHAPTER XI

OFF TO THE MEET


“What do you reckon they were talking about?” asked Ned.

“Are you sure it was Noddy and Bill?” inquired Bob.

The two were questioning their chum Jerry the day following the
accident to the _Comet_, when the tall lad had reported to them the
result of his visit to Noddy’s house.

“I’m as sure it was Noddy and Bill, as that I’m talking to you and Ned
this minute, Bob. But as to what they were talking about I give up.
I’ve been thinking of it all night, but I can’t hit it,” answered Jerry.

“Some mischief I’ll wager,” came from Ned.

“Oh, you can be sure of that,” added Bob.

“One thing seems to be certain,” went on the tall lad, “and that is
they’re going to the Colton meet. I wish they weren’t, since we’ve
entered our machine there. But there’s no help for it.”

“This is a free country,” declared the stout lad. “They can do as they
please, I suppose.”

“Well, if we’re going to the meet it’s time we did something to the
_Comet_,” suggested the merchant’s son. “What about the rips in the gas
bag, Jerry?”

“We’ll get right at them. I’ve got out the stuff to mend the tears.
I’ll start you and Bob on that, and I’ll make another try to see Noddy.
I’m going to make him pay up if it’s possible.”

A little later, having seen that his two chums were putting the patches
on the gas bag the right way, Jerry again went to the Nixon house. A
sleepy-eyed maid answered the bell, yawning, though it was after ten
o’clock. Evidently the company had stayed late the night before.

“Master Noddy is not in,” she replied in response to Jerry’s inquiry.
“He’s out of town, and I don’t know when he will be back.”

“Out of town?”

“Yes, to some balloon show I heard him tell his father. Mr. Nixon is
in, if you’d like to see him.”

“Never mind,” said the tall lad. “Did Noddy take his airship with him?”

“No, it’s being packed up now. Some men are out in the shed boxing it
up. It’s going out to the balloon show I believe. Is there any word
you’d like to leave,” she asked, as she saw Jerry turn to go.

Jerry thought there was none, and hurrying to the shed where Bob and
Ned were working away over the _Comet_, he told his chums the news.

“Noddy means business all right,” declared Ned, pausing with a cement
pot in one hand, while with the other he tried to rub off a daub of tar
on his nose.

“Maybe he’s after our scalp,” suggested Bob. “But I guess we can do
stunts with the _Comet_ that he wouldn’t dare dream of.”

“Sure,” assented Jerry. “Well, as long as he’s gone I’ll have to defer
collecting damages. Now we’ll get busy.”

For more than a week our heroes spent most of their time in the
aeroplane shed. The gas bag was repaired, and made stronger than ever,
the motor was overhauled, a general cleaning of the machinery took
place, a new railing was put around the after platform, and the air
craft was put in condition to take part in a distance race, a high
flight, or to do startling evolutions about the aviation field.

They had formally entered the _Comet_ in the hundreds miles’ race which
was to take place in a ten-mile circuit about the aviation grounds,
and they had also entered in the high-flying event.

One afternoon, when Jerry went to the post-office, he received a letter
from the secretary of the meet, enclosing an entrant’s certificate, and
also a list showing those who would take part in the various events.

“Well, we’ll have to compete against Noddy in both big races--distance
and height,” said Jerry dubiously to his two chums.

“Really?” asked Ned.

“Sure, here’s his name, and he’s entered Bill Berry as a passenger.”

“He’s got nerve,” declared Bob. “Well, we’ll beat him all right. But I
would like to know what game he and Bill are after in Harmolet.”

“So would I,” agreed Jerry. “But say, fellows, we haven’t any too much
time. We ought to give the _Comet_ one good try-out, and then take her
apart and ship her to the meet.”

“What’s the matter with going to the meet _in_ her?” asked Ned. “We can
easily do it, and it will save time and work.”

“The only thing is we might have an accident on the way, and then we’d
be out of it, if we couldn’t get the repairs done in time,” objected
Jerry.

“Oh, take a chance,” urged the merchant’s son; and so it was decided.

The _Comet_ was given a final trial flight the next day, and the boys,
in company with Professor Snodgrass, went through some intricate
evolutions, as well as testing the speed of the motorship on a
straight-away course.

They sailed up to a dizzy height, came down in spirals, volplaned to
earth as an aeroplane with the gas entirely out of the bag, floated
lazily in the air as a balloon, and went after a height record. The
last they did not accomplish, for they had only gotten up about three
miles when they ran into a violent snowstorm, and Jerry, not wanting
to take any chances with the time of the meet so near at hand, made a
quick descent.

“We’ve gone higher on other occasions,” he said to his chums, “and we
know we can do it, so there’s no use taking too many risks. Otherwise
the _Comet_ never did better.”

“And if we don’t win at least two prizes I’ll eat my hat,” observed Bob.

“And about everything else on board too, I suspect, Chunky,” remarked
Ned, with a grin.

While the professor was interested in the working of the motorship,
and proud of the ability of his young friends, he spent more time
looking for insects in the upper air, than in watching the intricate
evolutions.

“And how soon after the meet will you start for the West?” he inquired
anxiously, when they had wheeled the _Comet_ into the shed.

“Oh, in a few days,” promised Jerry. “I believe he cares more about
that flying frog than he does about us winning a prize,” confided the
tall lad to his chums.

“I’m sure of it,” agreed Ned.

The final preparations were made. Plenty of provisions were put aboard,
there was enough gasolene for a long flight, and materials for making
the lifting gas had been stored away. The _Comet_ was ready for the
flight to Colton.

“Well, we might as well get aboard,” remarked Jerry the day of the
start, after he and his chums had looked over every bolt, nut, lever,
cam, valve, gear and guy-wire. “We can take our time getting there.”

“Let her go!” cried Bob. “I’ve got everything ready for a meal above
the clouds.”

“Oh, of course,” murmured Ned. “No danger of you forgetting anything in
_that_ line.”

Professor Snodgrass was busy mending a hole in his butterfly net. Jerry
was in the pilot house, while Ned and Bob were in the engine room.

“All ready?” inquired the tall lad.

“All ready,” replied Ned, with a final look at the machinery.

“Then here we go!”

Jerry pulled the starting lever, just as Andy Rush ran into the
enclosure.

“Good-bye!” called the little lad. “Good luck! Off you go! Up in the
air! Whizz around! Turn over--right side up with care--off again--high
as Gilroy’s kite--win the prize--whoop-ee!”

“Well, I’m glad that’s over,” murmured Jerry with a smile.

Across the level space went the _Comet_ with a whizz and a roar. The
next minute it had mounted upward, and the motor boys were on the wing.




CHAPTER XII

NEWS OF BROWN AND BLACK


“Well, it seems like old times,” remarked Ned as he took an easy
chair in the living room, back of the pilot house, and watched Jerry
manipulating the various wheels and levers, as the big motorship
mounted upward on a long slant.

“Yes, we’re under way again,” agreed the tall lad. “I wonder what will
happen to us this trip?”

“What makes you think anything will happen?” asked Bob.

“Well it generally does, Chunky. Either we run over a spotted calf,
or rip a cornice off a barn, or have a run-in with Noddy Nixon. Oh,
there’ll be something doing on this trip before it’s over, mark my
words.”

“I hope we’re done with mix-ups and Noddy Nixon,” came from Ned. “More
likely we’ll have one with those queer fellows we met at Freedon--Black
and Green.”

“Black and Brown you mean,” broke in Jerry. “What’s the matter with
you; are you color blind?”

“That’s right, it was Black and Brown,” assented the merchant’s son.
“Well, I hope if we do meet them, that they turn out to be ‘white.’”

“Ha! Ha!” laughed Bob. “That’s a joke--‘white!’ Oh my!”

“Glad _you_ aren’t color blind, and can see it,” said Jerry with a
smile. “But what makes you think we’ll meet them, Ned?”

“Oh, it’s just a notion; that’s all. But say, we’re up high enough. Set
the automatic steering gear, and take it easy, can’t you?”

“Guess I will,” assented the tall youth. “There’s no use wasting gas,”
for in addition to mounting upward by means of the aeroplanes the
lifting vapor was also in use.

For several hours our friends sailed slowly along, high above the
earth. They were not running their machine to the limit of speed, for
though they could readily have made a quick trip to Colton, the place
of the meet, they preferred to take it easy, and avoid chances of a
breakdown.

Promptly at noon--perhaps a little in advance of that hour--Bob
announced dinner, which he had been some time in preparing. His chums
said it did him credit, and the manner in which they ate was additional
testimony. Even Professor Snodgrass, who managed to tear himself away
from his specimens long enough to come to the table, condescended to
pass his plate for some more of the fried chicken. Bob had installed
a small ice chest on the _Comet_, and victuals could be kept cold by
means of ammonia vapors, so it was possible to serve fresh meats.

“We ought to be there pretty soon now,” observed Jerry, toward the
close of the day. “I figure we’ll just about get to Colton before dark.”

“You engaged a hangar for us, didn’t you?” inquired Ned.

“Sure. The secretary of the aeronautic association wrote me that he had
picked out for us one of the best on the grounds. It’s of heavy canvas
over a wooden frame. They didn’t have time to put up all wooden ones.”

“Well, better speed up a little,” suggested Bob. “We don’t want to drop
down on a strange ground after dusk. Hit it up a little, Jerry.”

The _Comet_ was soon scudding along at a faster clip, when suddenly a
little cry from Ned, who was in the pilot house brought Bob and Jerry
to his side on the run.

“There’s the place!” he cried, pointing ahead.

They could see a broad level plateau on which could be made out many
tents and hangars, gay with flags and bunting, while here and there the
graceful biplanes or monoplanes were interspersed with the more bulky
dirigible balloons.

“Say, there’s a lot of ’em all right!” exclaimed Bob.

“Yes, I guess it’s going to be a good meet,” assented Jerry.

“You better make the landing,” interposed Ned, motioning for the tall
lad to take the steering wheel. “You’re more used to it than I am, and
we want to make a good impression.”

“You fellows can do it as well as I,” declared Jerry. “The only thing
is that you lack confidence. You must get used to it. However, I’ll
take her down this time.”

He turned on a little more power and then, shutting off the gas he
picked out an unoccupied spot, and volplaned to earth with great skill,
evoking applause from a crowd of aeronauts and spectators who crowded
out to witness the arrival of a new machine.

“Here safe,” remarked Ned as he prepared to descend from the deck of
the motorship.

“Look around and see if you can pick out Noddy’s craft,” advised Jerry.

“Or that of Brown and Black,” added Bob.

But a first glance about the grounds did not disclose the biplanes
either of the bully, or the two odd men, and Jerry and his chums could
have instantly discerned them had they been in sight, for they were
experts in the matter of identifying aircraft.

“Glad to see you! Your hangar is right over this way, boys!” exclaimed
a hearty voice, and looking up Jerry and his chums saw a small,
pleasant-faced man making his way through the crowd toward them. “I’m
Mr. Nichols, secretary of the meet,” he went on. “We’re all ready for
you. My! That’s a great machine you have!” and between shaking hands
with our friends and the professor he gazed admiringly at the _Comet_.

Many willing hands aided the boys in rolling their machine over to
the big canvas shed that had been set apart for their use. They had
landed not far from it. Of course Professor Snodgrass had disappeared
the instant earth was reached, but the boys saw him some distance off,
eagerly peering about for specimens.

“He’s at home all right,” murmured Ned.

Our friends found their hangar well furnished for their use. They did
not need to take advantage of the cots and cooking arrangements that
had been put in, for their machine was as good as a hotel to them. But
not every airship was thus completely fitted up.

“Well I’ll leave you for a while,” said Mr. Nichols at length, when he
had explained to the boys some of the details of the meet which was to
open officially in two days. “I’ll see you later.”

“Oh, by the way,” began Jerry, “have you another craft here from our
city--Cresville?”

“Yes, I believe there is an entrant from there,” replied the secretary.
“It’s a big biplane--a very good craft too. Run by a fellow named
Dixon, I think.”

“Isn’t it Nixon?” asked Ned.

“You’re right--I believe it is.”

“Is he here now?” asked Bob.

“Well he was, but if I’m not mistaken I believe he and his partner--a
Mr. Apple I think it is----”

“I guess you mean Berry,” interposed Bob.

“You’re right, it is Berry. I am poor at remembering names. Nixon and
Berry went out for a spin. They just got their machine together to-day.”

“I’m glad we didn’t take ours apart,” spoke up Ned. “We saved a lot of
time.”

“Have you any entrants named Brown or Black?” went on Jerry, who was
somewhat anxious for news of the two strange men.

“Hum! Brown and Black. Oh, yes, I remember now. They were here, with
their machine, too, a big biplane named the _Silver Star_.”

“That’s it!” exclaimed Ned eagerly.

“But they left,” went on the secretary. “They refused to comply with
the rules regarding the number of flights, and left in a huff. I don’t
much care, as I didn’t like their appearance. But I’m glad you boys are
here. You’ll be a sort of drawing-card, as you have quite a reputation
in aviation circles.”

“Thanks!” said Jerry with a laugh, as the genial secretary withdrew.

“Well, we’ve got Noddy to reckon with, but not the others,” remarked
Ned, as they proceeded to wash up for supper, over which Bob was
already busy in the galley.

“Yes, and Noddy’s enough trouble at a time,” spoke Jerry.

Ned had lathered himself well and was about to indulge in the luxury of
a splashing in the basin, when some shouts outside caused Jerry, who
was getting rid of his coat and vest, to rush from the hangar.

“I’ll wager it’s the professor in trouble over his bugs again,”
ventured the merchant’s son.

“No it isn’t, it’s a biplane coming down,” called back Jerry. “It’s
Noddy Nixon, too! And say, he’s lost control of it! He almost turned
turtle then!”

Bob and Ned rushed outside the tent. In the gathering dusk they looked
up to where Jerry pointed and saw a big biplane coming down with a
rush, while two frightened figures clung to the seats, one endeavoring
to bring up the head planes and avoid smashing to earth.

“They’re in a bad way!” murmured Jerry. “Their engine must have stopped
and they tried to volplane down. But their rudders won’t work and----”

“They’re going to smash as sure as fate!” burst out Ned. “I guess it’s
all up with Noddy Nixon and Bill Berry!”




CHAPTER XIII

WINNING A PRIZE


Indeed it did seem that nothing could save Noddy and Bill. With the
speed of the wind, and like a bird with a broken wing, their aeroplane
was shooting downward. The two could be seen, even in the gathering
dusk, to be working desperately to throw up the head planes or the
lifting rudder. If this could be done the biplane would shoot upward on
a slant, and its swift downward flight would be checked.

“His rudder lines must be jammed,” murmured Jerry in a low voice.

There were expressions of horror from the crowd. The aeroplane was now
within a hundred feet of the ground.

Suddenly there was a flutter of white at the prow, a flash of a canvas
plane, and the nose of the craft appeared to tilt upward.

“He’s done it!” cried Ned. “He’s got the rudder to work! Now he can
save himself!”

“If it isn’t too late,” added Bob.

But Noddy proved himself to have some pluck, and he showed not a little
knowledge of how to manage his machine. Quickly throwing up the forward
plane, he sent his craft along on a slightly upward slant. This checked
it almost like a brake, and, when he had considerably reduced the
momentum, he shifted the rudder lines, and once more headed for the
earth.

There was a cheer from the crowd, and our friends could not help
joining in it, even though they had no love for Noddy or Bill.

“He’s all right now, if he keeps control of it,” spoke Jerry.

Whether Noddy did not keep control of it, or whether the experience
through which he had just passed shook his nerves was not manifest, but
as a matter of fact he came down to the ground on too short a slant,
and without checking enough of his speed.

There was a splintering sound, a breaking of metal, and the bicycle
wheels of the aeroplane collapsed under the sudden shock. Noddy and
Bill were thrown out, but not hurt beyond a severe shaking up. Willing
hands assisted them to rise.

“You had a lucky escape,” commented one man.

“I should say yes,” chimed in another. “I thought it was all up with
you.”

“Oh, we’re tough; eh, Bill?” cried Noddy with a boastful laugh. “I knew
we’d come out all right. The tilting rudder got jammed. But I guess our
machine is badly smashed.”

“No, a new set of wheels and a couple of springs is all it needs,”
decided one of the aeronauts after an inspection. “There are a lot of
spare parts here. You can get fixed up in time for the race.”

“He’s got more pluck than I gave him credit for,” remarked Bob, as he
and his chums went back to their quarters and proceeded to get supper.

There were busy times next day for all concerned in the meet.
Officials were making the final arrangements for handling the crowds
they expected; exhibitors and those who expected to take part in the
flights and races were “tuning up” their motors, or making repairs or
changes in their machines. Some of the earlier comers were taking short
flights, and one daring Frenchman, in a tiny machine, was circling high
in the air, trying for a record.

Our heroes found a few changes necessary to make to their craft, and
they were so busy over them that they paid little attention to what was
going on outside. In the afternoon Ned, who had gone to the secretary
to secure some information concerning the time of certain races,
reported that Noddy’s machine had been repaired and that the bully and
Bill were going to make another flight.

“How’d he get another set of wheels so soon?” asked Jerry, pausing with
a small bicycle wrench in his hand. He had been tightening some of the
turnbuckles of the guy wires.

“Oh there was a set here that some one left or didn’t want and some
extra tires,” replied the merchant’s son. “Say, you ought to see them.
They’re almost as big as automobile wheels, with thick, heavy tires
on them, and those raised, right-angle, anti-skid projections on the
rubber. They make a track in the mud like a lot of chickens.”

“What made Noddy put on such heavy tires?” asked Bob.

“Guess he hadn’t any choice,” answered Ned. “He’s going to take part in
the hundred mile race to-morrow, and he wants to be ready, I guess.”

“I hope we win that race,” remarked Jerry thoughtfully.

“Why there isn’t much money in it,” went on Ned. “There’s twenty-five
hundred dollars for the machine that makes the best height record. I
should think you’d care more about that. It’s only a thousand and the
gold cup for the winner of the hundred mile race.”

“I know it, but it’s the cup I want for a trophy,” said Jerry. “We
don’t really need the money, but I like the glory. Besides, going after
a height record is rather monotonous, just circling about in a spiral.
Of course it’s sensational for the crowd to watch, and that’s why the
management offer a big money prize for it. But the best test of an
aeroplane is in a long distance flight. I hope we win.”

Of course Ned and Bob did also, though there was a difference of
opinion as to which race would confer the greater honor if won.

There were many machines in flight now, in preparation for the next
day. There were a number of biplanes, including Noddy Nixon’s _Winner_,
several monoplanes, one triplane, three dirigible balloons, and one
machine something like that of our heroes, a combination balloon and
aeroplane. But it was not as large nor as powerful as the _Comet_.

The air was filled with the snapping, crackling sounds of motors being
tried, and the smell of gasolene was all over. There was a babel of
tongues, French, German, Italian and Japanese, for one aviator of the
latter nation was going to try for a prize.

Here one would see an aviator and his assistants mending a torn plane,
or fixing a rudder. Over at the other side of the grounds one of the
birdmen was testing the thrust of his machine’s propellers by means of
a spring scale. Another was trying to discover a defect in his ignition
system, and others were oiling, fixing or warming up their motors.
Flags and banners fluttered from tents and hangars, officials were
hurrying to and fro, and some excited and anxious aviators were seeking
missing parts which had been shipped to them but which had not arrived.

“Lots doing,” commented Bob, as he and his chums got ready to go up in
their machine.

“Plenty,” agreed Jerry.

“It’s almost like a circus,” was Ned’s opinion, “and we’re part of the
show.”

“Well, get aboard and we’ll start,” counseled Jerry. “We’ll see if we
can get up any speed.”

“That’s a great machine you’ve got there,” complimented the busy
secretary as he hurried past. “Will you give some exhibitions flights
after the regular events?”

“Perhaps,” promised Jerry.

Our heroes had no reason to complain of the manner in which their craft
behaved. They went up to a good height and circled about in graceful
curves. Then, having warmed up the motor, Jerry, who had been picked
by his chums to guide the _Comet_ in the race the next day, sent her
around the ten mile course.

Faster and faster flew the big machine until even the tall steersman,
exacting as he was, could not help admitting that he was satisfied.

“She’ll do,” he said, as he coasted toward the earth. “We’ll make the
flight of our lives to-morrow, and----”

“Win!” cried Ned.

“Exactly!” exclaimed Jerry.

Swiftly the time went by, until at last came the hour for the great
hundred mile race. The immense grand stand was filled with an eager
anxious throng, and thousands equally eager and anxious stood about
the big field, well out of way of the air machines. The course of ten
miles was marked by anchored balloons, painted white, which were easily
visible across the wide valley where the meet took place.

Noddy Nixon had his machine out at the starting line. It had been
patched up, and, as Ned had remarked the wheels seemed too big for it.
In all there were seven starters besides the _Comet_, and contestants
included the _Winner_, a triplane, an Antoinette, a Bleriot monoplane
and Wright, Curtiss and Farman biplanes.

It was to be a “flying” start. That is the contestants would get in
motion at the sound of a gun, would rise as best they could, and
approach an imaginary line in the air, above the white balloon marking
the beginning of the course. Then the race would be to the swiftest
machine.

There was a last inspection of the engines and air craft, a hurried
testing of the propellers, and then, in answer to a question from the
secretary, the contestants said that they were ready.

Bang! went the pistol. The report was followed by a series of deafening
explosions as the motors started. Our three heroes were among the first
to get under way, and they quickly mounted to a good height. The others
followed. All approached the first anchored balloon in a bunch and a
moment later the race was on.

“Now for a long and steady grind,” said Bob, as he and Ned, oil cans in
hand, went to the motor room. Jerry was in the steering tower.

“Look what’s coming!” cried Bob, pausing in the act of lubricating a
bearing. “The Antoinette is going to pass us!”

“Let her,” answered Jerry easily. “He hasn’t enough gasolene to last
out, I don’t believe, if she burns it up that way.”

“And here comes Noddy in the _Winner_,” added Ned.

“Don’t worry,” advised the tall lad. “The race has only begun.”

Noddy and Bill, in their craft shot up on even terms with our friends,
and then, as though to show what he could do, Noddy dropped back again.

The big triplane was having difficulties, and it had not covered more
than three-quarters of the way around the first circle of the course
before it dropped out and went back to earth, engine troubles being
responsible. The other machines remained in the race, however, and
were about on even terms. Now one would be ahead, and then another.
The monoplane took the lead after the first ten miles, and kept it for
two rounds. Then the engine suddenly ceased working and the unlucky
operator had to volplane to earth.

Meanwhile Jerry and his chums had gone steadily on. The tall lad had
gradually increased the speed of the engine, as he found it working
well, and now they were making about forty miles an hour. This would
soon be almost doubled when the race was nearer an end.

The Farman, Curtiss and Wright machines were about on a line with the
_Comet_, and the _Winner_ was a little to the rear.

“I guess those big tires are too much for Noddy,” remarked Ned.

“Aren’t you going to speed up, Jerry?” asked Bob.

“Yes, I guess it’s about time.”

The race was half over when Jerry opened the gasolene throttle wider.
At once the _Comet_ shot well to the fore. As if only waiting for this
the others followed suit, all save the Antoinette, which had to drop
out. This left five contestants.

“Now the real race begins,” remarked Jerry grimly, as he took a firmer
grasp of the steering wheel.

“And here comes Noddy,” added Ned.

Indeed the race was now on in earnest. Faster and faster flew the
airships, their motors crackling and spluttering in a deafening
manner. They were not flying very high, for it was desired to give the
spectators a good view of the spectacular contest.

“They’re creeping up,” warned Bob, as he saw the other four machines
edging closer and closer.

“Let them,” said Jerry. “I’ve got some reserve power yet, and I think
they’re about all in.”

Ned looked at the speed gage.

“Ninety miles an hour!” he gasped. “We’ll finish in a few minutes more.”

“That’s what I hope to do,” replied the tall lad.

Hardly had he spoken than there sounded behind them an ominous cracking
sound. In alarm our heroes looked to the wings of their craft, but they
were all right.

“It’s the Curtiss,” cried Ned. “One of the wing tips had gone to smash.”

This was so. Too sudden a strain had put it out of commission. Like a
disabled bird the biplane was wobbling uncertainly in the air. The next
moment it shot toward earth, and came down with a crash.

Our heroes turned white, for well they knew the terrible result of
such a fall. But they could not stop. On and on they went, faster and
faster. Yet, as they circled the course on the last ten miles they saw
Noddy and the Farman machine creeping up on them.

Now Noddy was almost on even terms, and so close that the evil,
grinning faces of himself and Bill Berry could easily be seen.

“Beat him, Jerry! Beat him!” begged Ned.

“Yes, don’t let him get ahead!” pleaded Bob.

Jerry did not answer, but his lips parted in a grim smile, and his hand
grasped the steering wheel more firmly while with his foot he pressed
open still wider the accelerator throttle.

The Wright and Farman machines were now almost wing and wing with
Noddy’s craft, which hung just at the flank of the _Comet_. The white
balloon, marking the finish was but three miles ahead. They would be up
to it in about two minutes at the fearful speed they had now attained.

Suddenly, with a rush, the _Winner_ forged ahead of the other two
contestants and took her place on even terms with the _Comet_.

“Look out!” cried Ned. “Noddy may foul us!”

Jerry nodded. He threw over the throttle to the end notch. The _Comet_
shot ahead like a fox making a last desperate spurt to get away from
the dogs. The finish balloon was but a few hundred feet farther on.

Suddenly the motor of the _Comet_ ceased working. The silence was more
ominous than a terrific explosion could have been.

“We’re done for!” cried Ned.

“It’s all up!” predicted Bob.

“No!” fairly shouted Jerry. “We’ll volplane the rest of the way!”

He tilted the deflecting lever. Instantly the nose of the _Comet_
pointed earthward. There was a shout of dismay from the spectators, and
a yell of triumph from Noddy Nixon.

But he had reckoned without his host. With the terrific speed at
which she had been running to urge her on, and aided by the force of
gravitation and her momentum, the _Comet_ shot forward. Then, when
still a good distance from the earth Jerry sent her up on a sharp slant.

Forward she shot, like an arrow from the bow, and an instant later,
with her engine “dead” she crossed the line a winner, two lengths in
advance of the Nixon machine, which was second.

“Wow! We did it!” cried Bob in delight.

“By the great horn spoon, yes!” yelled Ned. “Jerry, you’re a wonder!”

Jerry said nothing. He was now guiding the _Comet_ safely to earth by
the maneuver known as “volplaning.”




CHAPTER XIV

A RISKY CLIMB


“That race wasn’t won fair!”

“That’s right, Noddy, we’ll protest it!” This from Bill Berry, who with
his crony had hurried to the office of the secretary after alighting
from the _Winner_.

“What’s that?” asked the official, looking from Noddy to our three
friends who, in response to the request, had come up to headquarters to
receive the prizes they had so pluckily won.

“I say that race wasn’t won fair!” insisted the bully. “The engine of
the _Comet_ stopped and they coasted over the line. That’s not right.”

“Oh, I think it is,” replied the secretary gently. “You read the
articles of agreement which you signed. They are alike for all
contestants. The first machine to cross the line wins, engine or no
engine.”

“Well, it’s not fair!” grumbled Noddy.

“Course it ain’t!” declared Bill. “We wouldn’t have raced if we’d known
that.”

“Oh, get out!” exclaimed the operator of the Wright machine who had
finished a close second to Noddy. “You make me tired. If your engine
had stopped you’d have tried to win the same way. Get out! Jerry
Hopkins and his chums won the race fair, and I never saw a more plucky
finish! I’m proud to shake hands with you,” and he extended his palm to
the tall lad.

“It gives me pleasure,” spoke the secretary, “to hand you this trophy,
and the thousand dollars, and to congratulate you boys on your
success,” and he passed over the gold loving cup, and a crisp thousand
dollar bill.

“Speech! Speech!” came the cry from the crowd that had gathered; but
Jerry, blushing furiously made his way through the press of people,
followed by Ned and Bob, and sought seclusion in the hangar. But the
mob was not to be denied and followed there, to gaze at the successful
aviators. They insisted so on being talked to that, to get rid of them,
Jerry did make a few remarks, thanking them for their appreciation, and
telling something of how the race was run.

As for Noddy, like a bear with a sore head, he and Bill sulked in
their tent, grumbling at the action of the officials in awarding the
race to our heroes. But no one paid much attention to them. Jerry and
his chums were much relieved to learn that of the two operators on
the Curtiss biplane, which fell to the earth, one was only severely
bruised, while the other sustained a broken arm. Their escape from
death was almost miraculous.

“What was the matter with our motor that it stopped?” asked Ned,
looking at the _Comet_ which had been wheeled into the big tent.

“I don’t know, we’ll make an examination,” replied Jerry, who was
gazing at the gold loving cup. “Do you know, fellows I’m prouder of
this than some of the other trophies we’ve won, and we have quite a
few.”

“What did you do with the thousand dollar bill?” asked Bob with a laugh.

“Oh, it’s somewhere around,” and Jerry pulled it, all crumpled up, from
his trousers pocket.

“What makes you think so much of this cup?” asked Ned.

“Because we’ve won it against some of the best birdmen in the world,
and against some of the speediest machines. You must remember that
our craft isn’t primarily a racer. The _Comet_ is more like a touring
auto--built for pleasure, and since we put on the hydroplanes it’s
considerably heavier than it was. This is the first race we’ve won
since we attached them, and it goes to show that we’ve got a fine and
powerful motor. That’s why I’m so proud of this cup.”

“Aren’t you going to try for the elevation prize?” inquired Bob.

“Sure, but as I said I prefer distance racing. Now we’ll look to see
what the trouble was.”

“And I’ll take care of this thousand-spot,” added Ned, as he carefully
put the bill in his pocketbook. “You’d use it to clean a brass pipe
with, Jerry.”

It was found that a broken wire in the ignition system was responsible
for the stopping of the motor, and the defect was soon remedied. While
the boys were at this, a message came from the secretary, asking them
if they would not oblige the big crowd by doing some special stunts
late that afternoon, following the regular events. These latter
included some monoplane flights, and some qualifying ascensions by men
who wanted to get a pilot’s license.

“Shall we do it?” asked Jerry of his chums.

“Might as well,” replied Ned, and word to that effect was sent to the
secretary.

“We ought to take the professor along if we’re going to give an
exhibition,” remarked Bob a little later. “The _Comet_ goes better with
four aboard, especially when we’re doing stunts.”

“That’s right,” agreed Jerry. “I wonder where he is? I haven’t seen him
since early morning.”

“Oh, he’s off after bugs, you can depend on it,” declared Ned.

They were engaged in cleaning and oiling the motor, in anticipation of
the flight they were to make later in the day, when a series of shouts
outside their big tent caused them to stare at each other in surprise
and some apprehension.

“What’s that?” asked Ned.

“Maybe some one else is falling,” suggested Bob.

Jerry hurried out, and immediately called to his chums:

“There’s something wrong over at Noddy’s hangar. Maybe he and Bill are
having a fight.”

It needed only such a mention as that to bring Ned and Bob out on the
run. They looked to where Jerry pointed and saw a big throng gathering
about the tent set aside for the use of Noddy and his _Winner_.

“Come on!” cried Ned, springing in that direction. Bob and Jerry
followed, and when they got near enough they could hear shouts and
calls like the following:

“He must be crazy!”

“Perhaps it’s the heat!”

“Did he fall from an aeroplane and land on his head?”

“What’s he trying to do, anyhow?”

“Give it up. Maybe he’s a snake charmer and one of his reptiles got
away.”

There were screams from several women at this.

Now Jerry, Ned and Bob had pushed their way in, and, just as they half
expected when they heard the remarks, they saw Professor Snodgrass on
his knees at the edge of the canvas shelter. He was evidently trying to
capture some bug.

“Might have known he’d create some excitement before the day was over,”
remarked Bob.

Hardly had he spoken than the little scientist jumped up as if he were
shot.

“Look out!” he cried. “There he goes! Don’t let him get away! Oh, there
he goes on top of the tent!”

In an instant the professor had pushed his way through the crowd, and
seeing a rope hanging from the top of the front pole of the hangar he
began to climb up it, the frail structure swaying with his weight.

“Come back! Come back!” yelled Jerry. “That won’t hold you!” But the
scientist kept on up the rope.




CHAPTER XV

A BREAKDOWN


The crowd, which at first had been inclined to be amused at the
spectacle of the odd little man shinning up a rope, was somewhat aghast
at Jerry’s cry. And indeed it was a perilous climb that Professor
Snodgrass had essayed.

For the hangars were rather frail, and were only designed as shelters
from the sun and rain, being merely poles set in the earth, with a
light frame built on them, and muslin, or thin canvas, stretched over.

“Come down!” pleaded Jerry. “Don’t trust your weight to that tent,
professor!”

“I must! I must get that insect!” he replied. “It is a very rare kind
of flying grasshopper, and I can see it perched up on the ridge pole!”

“What’s the matter, is he crazy?” asked a man of Ned.

“No, he’s only a scientific enthusiast,” was the reply.

The danger of Mr. Snodgrass was now obvious to all, for the frail
shelter was swaying with his weight.

“Here! What’s going on!” imperiously demanded Noddy Nixon. With Bill
Berry, he had been over to the secretary’s office, and the bully was
now coming back on the run as he saw the crowd about his tent.

“Get away from there!” he cried. “Ah, it’s that Snodgrass man! He’s
trying to get in our hangar, and damage our machine. Bill, call a
policeman and have him arrested. Get down off there, Snodgrass!” he
called disrespectfully.

“Oh, dry up!” advised Bob to the bully. “Don’t you suppose if he wanted
to get in there he could have gone in easier than by climbing up a
rope?”

“Well, he has no right on our tent,” went on Noddy.

“He’s after a new kind of grasshopper,” explained Ned.

The professor paid no heed to the cries of warning, nor to Jerry’s
appeals. Yet he was in grave danger. His motions, as he went up the
rope hand over hand, for he was quite an athlete, made the main front
pole of the hangar sway more and more, and it was almost on the point
of snapping off.

“Come back! Come back!” pleaded Jerry.

“Not until I get that insect!” replied the scientist. “It is very rare.
Ah, I see you, my beauty! Keep still a moment longer and I’ll have you!”

He tried to reach up with a short net he took from his pocket,
meanwhile supporting himself on the rope by one hand and by twisting
his legs in the strands. But he could not quite stretch far enough.

Then he seemed to become aware of the dangerously swaying pole, which
was becoming loose in the ground. The professor looked down at the
crowd below him.

“He’ll fall in another minute,” predicted a man.

“Get a net!” ordered some one.

“There isn’t any,” was the reply.

“A ladder then! Get a ladder! He’ll be killed!”

The professor looked longingly at the grasshopper, then he gazed
down at the crowd below him. To his credit be it said that he was
not afraid. Yet he saw the impossibility of keeping on. And, if he
slid down, the violent motion of the rope thus occasioned might have
disastrous results.

“Come on, Ned and Bob, we’ve got to save him!” cried Jerry.

“How you going to do it?” asked the merchant’s son.

“I saw a big step ladder over here!” went on the tall lad, running
toward a tent where was housed a dirigible balloon. “It’s an immense
one. We can put it up near the rope, and he can get down on it.”

They found the ladder standing outside the tent, and it was the work
of but a few seconds to rush it back to where the scientist was still
dangling. Nor were they any too soon, for as they got it in place the
swaying pole cracked off close to the ground, and the professor just
managed to throw himself on the ladder which was grasped and held firm
by scores of willing hands.

“Oh, dear! the grasshopper got away!” exclaimed the scientist as he
reached the ground.

The professor thought more of the loss of the insect than he did of his
own narrow escape, but a little later, having succeeded in capturing
a curious kind of bug in the grass near the tent of the _Comet_, he
forgot his troubles.

There were many interesting aerial exhibitions that afternoon, and
several small races in which our heroes did not take part. Noddy Nixon
and Bill went in one race and won it, much to the delight of the bully,
though really he deserved small credit, for his machine was much more
powerful than those of his competitors.

Then came the turn of our friends to show what could be done in their
craft, and to the wonder of the crowd they went up almost out of sight,
coasted down on a bank of air, propelled themselves as a dirigible
balloon, as an aeroplane, making the change high above the earth and
then did some other intricate evolutions. They received many vigorous
rounds of applause.

That night our friends made a careful examination of their craft in
anticipation of the races for high distance that were to take place on
the morrow.

“Is Noddy going to compete against us?” asked Bob. “I suppose he will
though.”

“No, he isn’t!” declared Ned, who had just come in from the secretary’s
office.

“Why not?” demanded Jerry.

“Oh he and Bill got huffy at something, or else they are afraid, and
they have withdrawn their entry. The secretary said Noddy was going to
take his machine and leave.”

“Small loss,” commented Bob.

There were not so many entrants in the trial for a record elevation
as there had been in the hundred miles race, but there were enough to
make it interesting. Our heroes got a good start and began the upward
spiral climb, going higher and higher, well in advance of all the
others.

They were making good speed, though the Wright biplane was creeping up
on them, when there sounded on ominous snapping sound from the motor
room.

“What’s that?” cried Jerry, who was in the pilot house.

“I’ll see,” offered Ned.

He came back with a rueful countenance.

“Well,” asked Jerry.

“One of the cylinders is cracked,” reported the merchant’s son.

“Then we’ve got to go down,” declared Jerry.

“We’re going down already,” exclaimed Bob, looking at the barograph. It
had registered a little over two miles, but now the hand was rapidly
swinging the other way as the motor of the _Comet_ lost speed at every
revolution.




CHAPTER XVI

STARTLING NEWS


There was no alarm among those aboard the _Comet_. Our heroes had, by
this time, become used to accidents happening even higher in the air
than they now were. In fact their machine was constructed purposely
to render them safe in case of a breakdown, for they could instantly
change from an aeroplane to a balloon, and thus float even with the
motor motionless.

This was what they did in the present emergency. Jerry saw that it was
useless, with one cylinder out of commission, to try to get any speed
out of the engine.

“Shut down!” he ordered Bob and Ned, and the big propellers ceased
revolving.

“It’s tough, just when we were after a record,” remarked Ned.

“Can’t we go down, fix her up and try again?” asked the stout lad.

“No use, Chunky,” declared the tall youth. “It will take several days
to put in a new cylinder. No, we’ve got to give up. But we ought to be
satisfied with the prize we won.”

They were not, however; in fact human nature never is, and Jerry and
his chums were no different from other lads. As they began falling
downward they could hear from below murmurs of fear, for the great
crowd thought the motorship was wrecked.

“Throw in plenty of gas!” called Jerry to his chums, and a moment later
the descent of the craft was checked as the lifting vapor rushed into
the bag. Then she floated lazily in the air, and, in a few minutes, to
reassure the watching, anxious throng, Jerry sent her about in dips and
circles, to show that they had her under full control.

A cheer greeted this evidence of skill in aeronautics, and then, there
being no necessity for descending farther the boys remained there to
watch from that vantage point the other machines climbing upward.

The big Wright passed close by them, the two occupants calling to know
what the matter was.

“Broken cylinder,” answered Jerry.

“Too bad, old man!” came the sympathetic hail, and then the biplane
continued to poke her nose toward the upper regions.

In turn a Bleriot monoplane, a Curtiss biplane, a “Baby” Wright, a
Santos Dumont, and a Farman shot upward, while our heroes had to look
on mournfully, being out of the race.

A little later, when all the competing craft had reached earth, it was
announced that a biplane had made the best record, having reached a
height of over 15,000 feet, establishing a new record.

“We could have beaten that if our engine hadn’t gone back on us,” said
Ned mournfully.

“I believe we could,” assented Jerry. “Well, we’ll be out of it the
remainder of the meet I guess, but let’s get busy, put in a new
cylinder, and start for the West to help the professor capture his
flying frog.”

“That’s it, boys!” joyfully exclaimed the little scientist. “I have had
very good success here, and only to-day I caught a little black lizard,
very rare and valuable, but I want to get after the frog.”

An examination showed that they would have to take out the cylinder and
put in a new one, and the preliminary work was started that evening.

Jerry and Ned were laboring in the motor room, and Bob had been sent
to tell the secretary that the _Comet_ could not, as her owners had
promised, take part in a final exhibition stunt. The stout lad came
back in a hurry, exclaiming as he entered the tent:

“Hey, fellows, Noddy Nixon is going!”

“Going where?” asked Jerry pausing, monkey wrench in hand.

“Going to leave. He’s taking out his biplane, and he and Bill are going
to cut the rest of the show just as Ned said. But they’re going off in
style. I thought he’d pack up his airship, but he’s going off in her.”

Out on the grounds could be heard the rattle and bang of a powerful
motor in operation. Our friends crowded to the tent entrance in time
to see the _Winner_ shoot up into the air, with Noddy and Bill in
the seats. Then the craft, describing a long curve, shot off toward
Harmolet.

“I wonder where he’s going?” mused Ned.

“No telling,” was Jerry’s opinion. “But come on, let’s get busy.
We’ll have to go to Harmolet to-morrow, and see if we can get another
cylinder in place of this cracked one.”

There was a trolley line not far from the aviation grounds, and our
three boys, catching a car early the next morning, were soon on their
way to the city where, so some of the birdmen had assured them, they
could easily get a new cylinder, or other parts of their machine or
engine. In fact, in anticipation of such calls being made during the
meet, one of the automobile dealers in Harmolet had laid in a stock of
airship parts.

Passing through a pleasant country, the boys shortly found themselves
in a good-sized city. The car was passing through the principal street
when, as it went by a bank building, the attention of Jerry and his
chum was attracted by a large crowd standing in front. The people
overflowed the sidewalk out on the trolley tracks.

“What’s the matter, a run on the bank?” asked Jerry of the conductor.

“Something like that,” was the reply.

“Did the cashier skip off with the funds?” inquired Ned.

“No, the safe was blown open last night, and fifty thousand dollars in
cash was taken, besides more in securities. It was quite a sum for the
bank to lose, and I guess some of the depositors are nervous. But most
of the crowd is there out of curiosity. The police are inside looking
for clews. I heard the news on my first trip this morning.”

“Fifty thousand dollars taken!” exclaimed Bob. “That’s a neat sum.
Let’s get off here, fellows, and see if we can get a glimpse of the
wrecked vault or safe. I’ve got my camera, and maybe they’ll let me
take a snap-shot. That would be a picture worth getting.”

“All right,” agreed Jerry. “There’s no special rush about the cylinder.”

They joined the throng about the bank, but looked in vain to see some
place where the side wall had been blown out with dynamite, or some
other explosive.

“Guess it wasn’t much of a blow-up,” remarked Ned in somewhat
disappointed tones.

“Oh, it’s all inside,” a man in the crowd informed them. “They nearly
blew the doors off the big safe, but nothing shows from the outside.
They got the money all right. Half the police in town are on the job
now, but last night, when the explosion took place, not a soul heard
it.”

“I wish we could get inside and see it,” murmured Bob “I’d like to take
a picture.” But there seemed no chance of this, as the police were
keeping the crowd back from the front of the building.




CHAPTER XVII

SEEKING CLEWS


“Come on, let’s go around this way,” proposed Ned in a low voice to his
chums, as a little later, he pointed to a side alley that apparently
led to the rear of the bank.

“Go ahead,” urged Bob, who had his small pocket camera ready. There
were but few persons near the alley, and our chums were just entering
it quietly, when a voice called out:

“Hey! Where you fellers goin’?”

“Oh, just up here,” replied Jerry, in non-committal tones.

“Well, you’ll have to keep out. I got orders not to allow any strangers
in there, and--why hello! If it isn’t the motor boys from Cresville!
Why, how are you?” and the man, evidently a watchman, or a policeman in
plain clothes, extended his hand toward Jerry, a smile illuminating his
face. “How’d you come here?” went on the man.

“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Thompson!” exclaimed Jerry in amazement. “How in
the world did you get here?”

“Sort of a mutual surprise party,” murmured Ned. “Hello, Mr. Thompson.”

“All three of you, eh?” went on the guard. “Jerry, Ned and Bob. Well,
I’m glad to see you,” and he shook hands with each of them in turn. Mr.
Thompson had lived in Cresville for many years and had done some work
for Mrs. Hopkins at odd times. The boys knew him very well, but of late
years had not seen him, for he had moved away from their town.

“How comes it that you are here?” asked Jerry. “Do you work in the
bank?”

“No, I’m one of the Harmolet police force. I’ve been on about two years
now. I knocked about the country after leaving Cresville, and finally
settled down here. I’m a regular officer now, and if I catch you boys
cutting up I’ll run you in!” and the man laughed at his joke.

“Where’s your uniform?” asked Bob.

“Didn’t have time to put it on. Soon as this robbery was discovered the
chief sent for all the reserve men. I was home sleeping, after my night
on duty, but I had to get up. We’ve got all the men we can spare on
this job.”

“What for?” asked Jerry. “Especially after the money is gone--fifty
thousand dollars of it?”

“Sixty thousand would be nearer the figure,” declared Mr. Thompson.
“It does seem sort of like locking the stable door after the horse is
stolen, but orders from the chief are orders. Besides, it takes quite a
few of us to keep the crowd back, and the rest are looking for clews.”

“Inside the bank?” Ned wanted to know.

“Inside and outside. The robbers made a neat job of it, and the funny
part of it is that we can’t seem to find out how they got in and
got out again. However they got the money all right--a clean sixty
thousand. But what are you boys doing here?”

“We took part in the airship meet at Colton,” said Jerry; and they told
Officer Thompson about it, of how they had seen the crowd, and stopped
off the car to learn the cause of the excitement.

“I wanted to get a picture of the wrecked safe,” put in Bob, “but I----”

“Say now, I’m glad I met you,” interrupted Mr. Thompson. “It’s a little
against orders, but I guess I can let you in, especially as no one is
looking. Slip around in back of me, and go to the rear door. Wait there
for me, and as soon as I can get some one to take my place I’ll bring
you in, and show you the way they did it. It’s worth seeing.”

They had not been waiting at the rear door of the bank more than a few
minutes, and had seen, through the windows, a number of men hurrying
here and there, when their friend came up.

“It’s all right,” said Mr. Thompson. “Come on, I’ll take you in.”

Piloted by the former Cresville resident, our friends entered the bank.
A scene of confusion greeted them. The officers and clerks of the
institution were hurrying to and fro with books and papers, and from
the president’s room came the murmur of voices.

“The directors are having a meeting to decide what to do,” explained
Mr. Thompson. “Likely they’ll offer a big reward. I’d like to pull it
down myself, but the detectives will probably get this job. They ought
to offer at least five thousand for the recovery of the sixty thousand.”

“Sixty thousand? They got more than that!” exclaimed a policeman in
uniform who nodded to Mr. Thompson and the boys in a friendly fashion.

“More than that?” repeated our heroes’ friend in surprise.

“Sure. The sixty was mostly in paper money--bills of big denomination,
and a lot of double eagles--they left the silver scattered around.
Probably it was too heavy to carry, though there was plenty of it.
But they took a hundred and fifty thousand dollars more in negotiable
securities--stocks, bonds and so on.”

“A hundred and fifty thousand!” gasped Bob.

“Two hundred and ten thousand dollars in all!” half-whispered Ned.
“That _was_ a haul!”

“Come on over this way, and I’ll show you where they took it from,”
proceeded Mr. Thompson, and the boys followed. They halted in front of
a massive safe, built into the wall in the form of a vault, and a scene
of ruin met their eyes.

The big doors were shattered and twisted, and one had been completely
torn from the hinges and lay on the floor. The inner doors, of less
weight, had also been blown open. Even yet books and papers, and many
silver coins, lay scattered about, the clerks not yet having had time
to pick them up.

“It was a good job all right,” explained the former Cresville
man;--“that is, good from a burglar’s standpoint, though they used more
juice than they needed to.”

“Juice?” queried Bob.

“Yes, nitro-glycerine you know. They carry it in a bottle, drill a
hole in the door, pour it in, tamp it with soap, and set it off with a
fuse. They must have blown the doors when a train was going past so as
to deaden the noise, for no one heard it.”

“Where was the watchman?” asked Jerry.

“The bank didn’t keep one, but I guess they will after this,” replied
Mr. Thompson grimly. “They’d have saved money if they had had a man on
guard. Here you can see where they started to drill a hole in the door,
and changed their minds. Probably it wasn’t in the right place.”

He pointed to a small hole, neatly made in the hard steel.

“Took a pretty good drill for that,” was Jerry’s opinion.

“Yes, it was a power-drill,” said the policeman. “Oh, these were
up-to-date crooks all right, and they made a good get-away.”

“How’d they get in?” asked Ned.

“I don’t believe they’ve found out yet. You see this is the first time
we’ve had a big robbery like this, and it’s sort of upset the force.
It’s a mystery how they got in.”

“The detectives have about solved it though,” put in an officer in
uniform.

“How?” inquired Mr. Thompson.

“Through the roof scuttle. One of ’em--Blake I think it was--just
discovered some finger marks in the dust around the scuttle, and it was
found unhooked, so he’s pretty sure they came in from the roof.”

“How’d they get on the roof?” asked Jerry.

“That’s what they’ve got to find out,” went on the policeman.

“I wonder if I could take these friends of mine up and have a look?”
ventured Mr. Thompson.

“Sure,” assented the other. “There’s not much to see though. I guess
the best clews will be found down here.”

Bob wanted to take several snap shots of the wrecked safe, and Ned and
Jerry waited for him. Meanwhile two or three detectives were observed
poking about in the ruins, and the litter of paper for possible clews.

“Come on, Chunky, you’ve got pictures enough,” called Ned finally.
“Let’s take a look at the roof, and you can make a snap shot there,
and then we’ll get over to the store, buy the cylinder, and fix up our
motorship.”

“All right,” assented the stout lad, closing his camera; and then Mr.
Thompson led the boys up to the roof of the bank.




CHAPTER XVIII

A NEW THEORY


“Those robbers probably came in a light, rubber-tired rig, left it
somewhere around the corner, got into the bank, did the job and drove
away again,” was the opinion of Mr. Thompson, as he crawled out of the
roof scuttle, followed by the boys.

“But how did they get to the roof?” asked Ned. “You’ve got to explain
that.”

“Easy enough,” spoke the policeman. “You see this bank is in a row,
with several other buildings, all about the same height. They could
have climbed up the fire escapes, or they could have used a ladder.
I’m inclined to the latter theory myself, for the fire escapes are on
the front of the buildings, and if they went up them they’d be seen,
whereas they could put a ladder up in back.”

The boys looked about them, and Bob took a couple of snap shots,
including one of his two chums and the officer as they stood near the
opened scuttle. As Mr. Thompson had said there was not much to see.
The roof was a long one, extending over several buildings, and being
flat, and covered with a composition of tar and gravel, alternating
with tin on some of the structures, made quite a place to stroll about.

Jerry walked a little away from Ned and Bob, who were listening to
Mr. Thompson’s explanation of how Detective Blake had discovered the
finger marks in the dust around the scuttle rim, and had thus made his
discovery.

“Blake thinks the scuttle was left unhooked, or else that the thieves
reached in with a bent wire, and lifted the hook from the catch,” said
the policeman.

The tall lad was walking over a stretch of tin roof, on a building
two or three doors from the looted bank. There had been rain two days
previous, followed by a brisk wind, which dried out the dust, and
there was now quite a coating of the latter on the tin. There was also
something else, and as Jerry caught sight of several marks in the
dirt-coating he uttered an exclamation.

“Somebody with rubber-soled tennis shoes has been walking up here,” he
said.

He bent closer over the footprints, and then he saw another mark that
caused him to spring up quickly, and call to his companions and the
policeman.

“Look here!” he cried, beckoning to them.

“What’s the matter?” demanded Ned, coming up on the run.

“Easy! Easy!” cautioned Jerry. “Don’t trample on these marks. Look! If
some one hasn’t been up here on a bicycle I miss my guess!”

“A bicycle!” exclaimed Bob. “Do you mean to say that the robbers rode a
bicycle up here?”

“There are the marks of the rubber tires plain enough,” replied Jerry,
pointing to them.

“That’s no bicycle track!” declared Ned.

“Why not?” the tall lad wanted to know.

“Or, if it is, the fellow rode on one wheel, or else is more expert
than anyone I ever saw. See, there’s only one straight mark, and the
best rider in the world turns his front wheel every now and then,
making a separate track from the rear one. That’s no bicycle mark.”

“What is it then?” demanded Jerry. “Did some one roll a single bicycle
wheel about on the roof for fun?”

Before Ned could reply, Bob, who had gone off several paces to the
left, uttered a cry.

“Here’s another!” he shouted, pointing to the dusty tin roof. His
companions hastened over, taking care to keep off the tracks, and
there saw another mark, exactly like the first.

For a moment Jerry Hopkins stared at the second impression. Then he
went back to look at the first one. Next he hurried forward and began
looking at a space about midway between the two tire tracks. His
companions and the policeman watched him curiously. Suddenly Jerry
threw up his hand as a signal.

“I’ve found it!” he cried.

“What?” asked Ned.

“The third track!” was the response. “Fellows it was no bicycle up
here. It was----”

“An aeroplane!” fairly burst out Ned and Bob together, for now, with
the discovery of the third impression, midway between and ahead of
the first two, it was very plain to anyone who had had to do with
aeroplanes that they were the marks of the three landing, or starting
wheels, of such a craft, that had left the marks in the dust of the
roof.

“An airship!” exclaimed the policeman. “Do you boys mean to say that an
airship has been up here?”

“It certainly has,” declared Jerry firmly. “Look here! There are more
marks farther on.” He pointed just beyond a blank space, where the
tin roof was clean of dust, and the marks were again visible in the
soft tar of another roof. “They landed here and made a start from here.
They could easily do it. In fact this long, flat roof with the tar
and gravel to give good traction, is an ideal starting place for an
aeroplane.”

“An aeroplane on the roof!” murmured the officer, as if unable to
believe it. “Do you think, Jerry----”

“I think,” interrupted the tall lad, “that the bank burglars came
through the air, made a landing here unseen by anyone in the street,
went down the scuttle, looted the safe, and made a flying start from
this roof.”

“Wait! Wait!” begged Mr. Thompson. “This is a new theory--I never heard
the like before. It needs a regular detective to consider this. Wait
until I get Blake up here. I’ll wager it’ll be news to him. Wait here
for me.”

He hurried down the scuttle, and the boys eagerly looked for more
impressions and talked about Jerry’s discovery. They went to the end of
the row of buildings, and there, where the roof was of tar and gravel,
they found in the soft black material the plain impression of the three
wheels. They came to a sudden stop before “the jumping-off place,” as
Jerry called it, was reached.

“Here’s where they sailed into the air,” he declared confidently.

“Let’s see if we can find where they landed,” suggested Ned.

They did, at the opposite end of the row of roofs, just where a tall
building reared itself several stories higher than the row of low
structures.

“They came down here all right,” declared Jerry excitedly pointing to
the deep impression made by the wheels. The boys even found the place
where the drag-brake had scraped a long line in the gravel, and that,
to them, made their “case complete.”

Suddenly the merchant’s son uttered a cry, and straightened up.

“What’s the matter?” asked Jerry in surprise.

“Those wheel marks!” gasped Ned. “Look! Those are new tires, Jerry. Not
worn a bit, and they’re the anti-skid style--see the corrugations and
the rubber-protruding cleats.”

“I see ’em--what of it?”

“Don’t you remember--Noddy Nixon’s aeroplane--after he put on the new
wheels, following his smash-up? Don’t you remember? He had wheels just
like these--exactly like them. Look!”

Jerry glanced at his chum with wide-opened eyes. Then he looked down at
the marks. The light of remembrance came into his eyes.

“By Jove, Ned, you’re right!” he exclaimed. “Noddy Nixon and Bill
Berry--and that talk I overheard between them--Noddy Nixon--his
aeroplane--I----”

At that moment Detective Blake, followed by President Carter of the
looted bank, and several of the directors, came out on the roof.




CHAPTER XIX

SUSPICIONS


“How about it, Jerry?” asked Ned in a low voice, as the bank officials
and the police approached. “Shall we tell ’em what we think?”

“And put ’em on Noddy’s track?” went on Bob.

“I hardly think so. Keep quiet. Leave it to me a while. I want to
consider it. No, I guess we won’t say anything except that we believe
an aeroplane was used. We needn’t say we have a suspicion as to whose
it was.”

Thus Jerry answered his chums, and when the bank president, and the
others, reached the side of the boys the tall lad was ready for them.

“What’s this the detective tells me you’ve discovered about an
aeroplane being used?” asked Mr. Carter, incredulously.

“I think--in fact I’m sure one was,” declared Jerry. “It seems a
strange thing to say, and a few years ago of course would have been out
of the question, but it is not now.”

Then, with Ned and Bob putting in an occasional remark Jerry carefully
explained his theory, pointed out the impressions of the anti-skid
tires, and showed where the airship had landed, and where the robbers
had gotten their start for a flight into the air.

“Hum!” mused President Carter, “I am almost convinced in spite of
myself, young man. It certainly is an ingenuous explanation. What do
you think of it, gentlemen?” and he turned to the directors. Some of
them were plainly skeptical, some were half convinced, and one or two,
who had seen some recent airship flights, expressed their belief in
Jerry’s theory.

“What have you to say, Mr. Blake?” asked the president, of the
detective.

“Well, sir, I hardly know. I never had any experience with a safe
robber who used an airship, and yet, as this young man says, it might
be possible. If it is we’re going to have a hard time to trace the
thieves. It isn’t as if they had used an auto or a carriage. The air
doesn’t leave any marks or traces.”

“Oh, it’s all nonsense! Utter nonsense!” interrupted a tall, thin
director. “Preposterous! Why it’s out of the question. An airship
indeed! You might as well tell me it was spirits that robbed the bank.
I don’t believe a word of it! Besides, who are these boys who originate
such a foolish theory. Do they know anything about airships?”

“They certainly do!” broke in Mr. Thompson with great earnestness.
“They have been running one of the best airships ever made, and they
just won the hundred mile race at Colton in their motorship _Comet_.”

For a moment the director who had ridiculed the theory of our friends
looked first at them, and then at the officer. A change came over his
face.

“Oh, these are those boys; eh?” he asked. “I--er--I read about that
race--and they own the _Comet_? The craft that made that marvelous
rescue in midair of Mr. Jackson. Mr. Jackson is a friend of mine. He
told me about that. It was very wonderful. Well, of course that puts
a different face on it. If these are the motor boys, and they say an
airship was used to rob our bank, why, I don’t know--of course I don’t
understand much about such things, Mr. Carter--but I should say--not to
be too positive of course--but I should say these boys know what they
are talking about. Oh, yes, I believe I agree with them, and the best
thing we can do it to get some circulars printed, offering a reward
for the capture of the airship bank robbers.”

“I agree with you, and I think these lads are right,” spoke the
president. “The next thing to do is to consider ways and means for
capturing the robbers, and also how we can best protect our credit. For
there will, no doubt, be a run on the bank as soon as the full news
leaks out, as it will. I think we had better resume our deliberations,
gentlemen. And I suggest that we have these boys before us, and
question them. They may be able to give us some valuable clews.”

Once more the directors were in session, and Jerry and his chums told
over again, and with more detail, how they had come to form their
theory as to the airship.

“Now that is settled,” began the president, “the question arises, what
sort of an airship was used, whose it might be, and where we can look
for it? Can you boys enlighten us on those items?”

These were the questions Jerry had been fearing would be asked. He was
in a peculiar position. He and his chums had well-grounded suspicions
against Noddy and Bill, and yet Jerry thought it would hardly be fair
to disclose them.

“It would be very hard, Mr. Carter,” said Jerry, “to say what kind of
an aeroplane was used. In general they are all alike as regards the use
of bicycle wheels. I should say that this was a large biplane, and that
at least two men were in her.”

“Easily two men,” confirmed Detective Blake. “No one man alone could
have blown the vault open.”

“As to finding out who they were,” went on Jerry, “I think the best
plan would be to make inquiries among the makers of aeroplanes in this
vicinity regarding the persons who have purchased machines lately,
and also what machine was fitted with those peculiarly marked tires.
Do that, at the same time send out a description of the missing
securities, and have detectives in different parts of the country
on the lookout for birdmen who have plenty of money to spend, and I
believe you’ve done all that is possible--at least for the present.”

“Why, have you any hope for the future?” asked the president, struck by
some peculiar meaning in Jerry’s tone.

“No--that is I--well, my chums and myself intend going off on a trip
soon, and I was going to say that we would be on the lookout also, and,
if we heard anything, we’d let you know.”

“Thank you,” said Mr. Carter genially. “I believe your advice is good,
and we’ll follow it. Did you make a note of it, Mr. Blake?”

“Yes, sir, part of it has already been done. We have wired to all big
cities for the police to be on the lookout for the thieves, and brief
descriptions of the stolen securities have been wired broadcast. A
printer is now setting up a circular to be posted in all railroad
stations and other public places, so you see we have covered that end.
I’ll at once get busy among the aeroplane makers and tire people, and
as soon as I have anything worth while I’ll let you and the other
gentlemen know.”

“Very good, and if these young men can get any trace of the robbers
we’d be glad to hear from them. We are about to consider the matter of
offering a reward, and that will soon be made public.”

Jerry and his chums, as well as several detectives who were in the room
took this as a hint that they might now withdraw, and they did so. The
motor boys, after a little further talk with their friend Mr. Thompson,
and lingering a while to look at the large and increasing crowd about
the bank, proceeded to the supply house to get a new cylinder.

“Well, we certainly ran into a bunch of news that time,” remarked
Jerry, when, having purchased what they needed, they were on the
trolley, going back to Colton.

“Yes, and we haven’t heard the last of it,” commented Ned. “What are we
going to do about Noddy being mixed up in it?”

“I hardly know,” replied the tall lad. “It certainly looks as if he and
Bill were in it. Yet I hate to inform on them.”

“But it isn’t right to let them get away with all that
money--especially when some of it belongs to poor depositors,” declared
Bob.

“You’re right, Chunky. I guess we’ll have to tell all we know,” and
Jerry looked solemn. It was a duty to be performed, and Jerry was not
one to shrink from it, no matter how unpleasant it might be.

“When you think of the talk he and Bill had that night you overheard
them,” went on Ned, “there isn’t much doubt of Noddy’s guilt. Weren’t
they saying something about doing a job, and getting away from the
police?”

“Yes,” assented the tall lad.

“Then you can depend upon it they’re the guilty ones. I say let’s go
back and tell the bank people about Noddy’s tires.”

“No--not yet--wait a day,” advised Jerry. “If it was Noddy and Bill
they can’t get far away, and we seem to have the faculty of butting
into them often.”

“But they may spend all that money,” objected Bob.

“Hardly two hundred and ten thousand dollars in a few days,” replied
Jerry. “We’ll take a little longer to think of it, and then we’ll
decide what to do. If we make up our minds to take a flight after the
robbers--whether they are Noddy and Bill, or some one else--we’ll have
to get the _Comet_ in shape. Come on now, we’ll get busy and we won’t
think anything more about the robbery until we have to.”




CHAPTER XX

A BIG REWARD


There were several more events to come off in the aviation meet, but
our friends were unable to take part in them because they found it
a harder and longer task to put in the new cylinder than they had
anticipated. But they had time to stop occasionally, and watch the
birdmen in their dizzy flights high in the air or about the big valley
where the contests were held.

Jerry and his chums finished work on the engine one afternoon, the day
before the close of the meet, and yielding to the entreaties of the
secretary and the other officials they gave an exhibition flight that
was greeted with cheers.

“And this is the end of the meet,” remarked Jerry as they sat in their
tent that night, for the next day would come the awarding of such
prizes as had not previously been given out, and then the affair would
be over.

“Well, what are we going to do?” asked Bob. “Have you made up your
mind any further regarding Noddy and the robbery, Jerry?”

“No, and I can hardly say what we ought to do. Sometimes I feel like
telling President Carter and the detectives everything, and again,
suppose I should be wrong? It wouldn’t be very nice falsely to accuse
even a fellow like Noddy Nixon.”

“Why don’t you tell the facts in the case, and let people draw their
own conclusions,” suggested Ned. “You can tell of the conversation you
heard between Bill and Noddy, and about the tires on Noddy’s machine.
Then drop out of it, and tell them to work the clews as they see fit.”

“I believe that would be a good way out of it,” assented the tall lad.
“I’ll do it. We’ll go to the bank to-morrow, and then we’ll start
on a trip out west and see if we can’t get that flying frog for the
professor.”

“Oh, you don’t know how anxious I am to start on that quest!” cried the
scientist. “I can hardly wait! And so we will go to-morrow. Still, I
can’t complain. I caught a pink striped June bug to-day, a very rare
and valuable specimen,” and then the little man began poring over his
note books.

There was little of interest to our heroes at the aviation grounds the
next day, and Jerry and his chums made a trip in to Harmolet with the
intention of having an interview with the bank president and the chief
detective.

As they neared the bank building they saw in front of it almost as
large a crowd as had been there the morning after the robbery.

“Hello!” exclaimed Ned. “I guess the run is still keeping up. Let’s get
off the car and see what’s doing.”

“Maybe the robbers came back for the silver they didn’t take,”
suggested Bob with a laugh.

By dint of pushing this way and that, the lads managed to get to a
place where they could read a notice, which, printed in large type,
posted on the side of the bank building. It caught Jerry’s eyes at
once. The notice read:

                            $10,000 REWARD!

    The above reward will be paid to any person or persons who
    shall cause the arrest and conviction of the robber or robbers
    who, on the night of July 15, broke into this bank, and stole
    bank notes to the amount of sixty thousand dollars, and
    negotiable securities to the amount of one hundred and fifty
    thousand. About four thousand dollars in gold was also taken.

    It is believed that the robbers used an aeroplane to land on
    the roof and in which to make their escape. The above reward
    will be paid immediately on the conviction of the robbers.

                                                 THOMAS CARTER,

                                                        President.

“Well, they’ve officially adopted our airship theory,” remarked Ned,
with a smile at his chums.

“Yes, and I guess now will be as good a time as any to tell what more
we know,” suggested Jerry. “Come on, we’ll ask to see Mr. Carter.”

They were making their way through the press of people and finding it
no easy matter, when Ned almost knocked down a boy who, with three
small bicycle tires hanging over his shoulder was standing on his
tiptoes, trying to look over the heads of the crowd to read the reward
notice.

“I beg your pardon!” exclaimed Ned. “Did I hurt you?”

“Naw, not a bit!” exclaimed the lad good naturedly. He was a typical
errand boy, always glad of an excuse to stop and “kill” time. “Dat’s a
swell reward de bank is offerin’,” he volunteered. “I wish I could cop
it.”

“Yes, it wouldn’t be bad,” said Bob. As for Ned, after the first shock
of the collision, and his apology, he was looking at the lad in a
curious fashion--yet not so much at the boy as at the bicycle tires he
carried.

“Look!” whispered Ned to Jerry, pointing to the rubber circlets. “Those
are tires for aeroplane wheels,” went on the merchant’s son, “and
they’re marked just like those Noddy had on his machine. Jerry, here’s
a clew right under our noses!”




CHAPTER XXI

THE RAG ON THE STATUE


The attention of the boy with the tires was so much taken up with
trying to look over the heads of the people about him, that, for a
time, he did not notice the excitement of Jerry and his two chums
caused by the unexpected discovery.

“They are the same tires,” murmured Bob.

“Exactly,” agreed Jerry. “What shall we do?”

“Let’s get this lad off in some quiet place, and talk to him,” proposed
Ned. “We’ll ask him where he works, and whether his firm sold any tires
to an aeroplane owner lately.”

“He’d hardly know about that,” objected the tall lad, “but we’ll
question him, anyhow. I’ll talk to him.”

After considering the matter for a few seconds, and turning over in his
mind the best way to get at what he wanted to know, Jerry touched the
lad on the shoulder, and asked:

“Have you got a few minutes to spare?”

“What for?” asked the boy suspiciously, taking a firmer hold of the
rubber tires.

“We want to ask you a few questions.”

“What about?” and the lad backed away.

“About those tires,” and Jerry indicated them.

“Where can we get some like them?”

“At the store where I work, Johnson and Carroll, 236 Main street. It’s
just down about two blocks.”

“Are you delivering these tires to some aeroplane owner?” asked Jerry.

“No, I’m taking these back to the store. They were out at the meet in
Colton.”

“Colton!” gasped Jerry.

“Yes, some fellows that had an aeroplane out there sent for some extra
ones just before the exhibition opened. They wanted a heavy anti-skid
kind--wanted several sets of ’em, in case they punctured some. So I
took out three sets--nine in all. But those fellows left before the
meet opened, and I was sent to-day, when it closed, to get the tires
they hadn’t used. They left word at the store that the unused tires
would be found in their tent, but the boss didn’t think to send me for
’em before. Those fellows used only one set, and left two.”

“What were the names of those men?” asked Jerry with growing excitement.

“Brown and Black!” answered the lad, and he was little prepared for the
flurry caused among his questioners by his unexpected answer.

“Brown and Black!” exclaimed Jerry.

“Yep. Was they friends of yours?” asked the boy.

“No, not exactly, but we had met them. So they used this style of tires
on their wheels?” Jerry’s brain was in a whirl. His suspicions against
Noddy were disappearing.

“But how is it, if they left two sets, or six tires, that you only have
one set of three here?” asked Ned. “Couldn’t you carry them?”

“Sure, but they weren’t in the tent that Brown and Black had used
before they left. There was only these three tires there. At first I
thought some one had swiped the extra set, but the secretary of the
exhibition paid me for ’em.”

“Had he used them?” inquired Bob.

“No, but some fellow who had an accident and needed new wheels and
tires on his airship heard about these tires in the vacant tent, and he
took three, giving the money for ’em to the secretary. The secretary
knew they were our tires, and kept the money for us.”

“Were the tires exactly like these?” asked Jerry, as he noted that the
ridges and corrugations corresponded to the marks on the roof of the
bank.

“Just like ’em,” replied the lad. “The fellow whose airship had a
smash, and Brown and Black, each have a set like ’em. They’re great for
airships. Maybe you’d like a set.”

“Later, perhaps,” assented Jerry who could not but admire the lad’s
business instinct. But Jerry had something else to think about just
then. “Who was the man who bought the extra set of tires, and left the
money for them with the secretary?” asked the tall lad.

“A young feller named Noddy Nixon,” replied the messenger promptly.

“Noddy Nixon!” exclaimed Ned and Bob in a breath. It was the answer
they had expected, but, nevertheless, it startled them.

“Huh! Do you know him too?” asked the boy.

“Slightly,” admitted Jerry. “We’re much obliged to you. Here’s a dime
for some ice cream soda,” and then, fearing the lad would ask questions
that might be embarrassing to answer, Jerry pulled his two chums to one
side, and they soon lost sight of the messenger and his tires in the
crowd.

“Say, wouldn’t that make you want to go in swimming?” demanded Ned,
when they could talk freely.

“It’s certainly got me going,” admitted Bob, with a sigh.

“And it knocks most of our theory squeegee!” said Jerry, shaking
his head. “There are two aeroplanes fitted with those peculiar
tires--Noddy’s and Brown and Black’s. Now which one landed on the roof
of the bank?”

“Give it up,” answered Bob.

“Same here,” replied Ned. “It’s too deep for me.”

“Who’d ever think of such a thing?” went on Jerry. “When Noddy smashed
his wheels that time he must have heard about those extra tires that
Brown and Black didn’t use, and he put them on his machine. Then those
two men already had a similar set on, and--there you are.”

“Or rather, there you--aren’t,” suggested Ned. “Now who committed the
robbery--Noddy or the other fellows? You ‘pays your money and you takes
your choice,’ as the fellow said in the circus.”

“Are you going to tell President Carter now?” asked Bob.

“I don’t know what to do,” replied Jerry, with a puzzled shake of his
head. “This puts an entirely new turn on it. Let’s go off and talk it
over.”

“There’s a little park somewhere up this way, not far from the bank,”
suggested Bob. “It’s got a statue and a fountain in it, and right
across the street is a nice restaurant. I noticed it the other day. We
could go to the park, sit down, and----”

“Then go to the restaurant and have something to eat; eh Chunky?” asked
Jerry with a smile.

They walked on in silence and soon came to the little park of which
Bob had spoken. It was prettily laid out, and in the centre was a
large fountain, surmounted by a large statue on a pedestal, the statue
being that of a man on a horse, holding aloft a bronze object that
represented an ancient torch.

As the boys came in sight of this art work they saw several men
gathered about it, and one was raising a long ladder to the shoulder of
the figure.

“What’s going on, I wonder?” asked Bob.

“Maybe they’re going to wash the man’s face, or feed the horse,”
observed Ned. “How about it, Chunky?”

A man was now mounting the long ladder, and looking up our friends saw,
fluttering from the torch which the bronze figure held aloft, a long
rag.

“What’s up?” asked Jerry of one of the workmen who was holding the
ladder steady.

“Oh the sparrows have carried a rag up on the statue to build a nest in
the torch I guess,” replied the man. “The birds like to get in there,
but they make such a litter of straw, grass and rags, that we have to
clean it out every once in a while. The top of the torch is hollow, you
see, and it makes a good place for ’em. But I never knew ’em to take up
such a big rag before. It’s been there several days, but we’ve been so
busy cutting the grass that we haven’t had time to take it down. To-day
there was a letter in the paper from some old lady, who said the rag
looked bad, so the superintendent of the park told us to get it down.”

The explanation was satisfactory, and the boys watched the man climb
up, and pull down the offending rag.

“Pretty good size for sparrows to take up,” he remarked to his fellow
workmen, as he descended. “There was this package in the hollow torch,
too. I wonder how it got there?”

He tossed the rag on a barrel full of leaves and paper refuse that had
been swept up on the park paths. Something about the cloth attracted
the attention of Jerry, who picked it up. No sooner had he felt of it
than he uttered an exclamation.

“Fellows!” he cried, “this isn’t an ordinary rag. It’s a piece of
canvas such as airship planes are made of!”

“Are you sure?” demanded Bob.

“Certainly,” replied Jerry. “See, it’s just the kind we use--in fact
nearly all planes are made from this kind, which is woven especially
for the purpose.”

“An airship; eh?” mused the foreman of the park laborers. “Maybe it
dropped from some of the machines that were flying out at Colton.”

“It didn’t drop, it was torn off,” declared Jerry, looking at the
ragged edges. “Some airship went too close to the statue, and a wing
tip, or a rudder hit the torch. It was risky flying all right.”

“Then it must have been done at night,” declared the foreman, “for some
of the men are on duty in this park all day, and they’d have seen it if
anything like that happened.”

“Perhaps it was a night flight,” assented Jerry, as he looked at
Bob and Ned. The same thought was in the minds of all of them--the
aeroplane of the bank robbers!

“What’s that other thing you found in the torch?” asked Ned of the man
who had climbed the ladder.

“I don’t know. It’s pretty heavy. Likely it was dropped by the fellows
in the airship. I’ll undo it.”

He took off the wrapping paper, disclosing a small flat stone. As he
did so two pieces of white paper fluttered to the ground. Jerry picked
them up, and, as he read what was written on them he could not repress
a cry of surprise.

For the names that confronted him were those of Noddy Nixon and Bill
Berry!




CHAPTER XXII

OFF ON THE HUNT


“Don’t talk any more--come away,” advised Jerry in a low voice to his
chums, as he handed back the slips of paper. “We want to talk this over
among ourselves.”

“The restaurant’s the place,” decided Bob, and neither Jerry nor Ned
laughed at him this time.

The three lads talked in guarded tones as they sat at a table in the
eating place, waiting to be served. The new turn to the mystery had
come with startling suddenness.

“Now whom do you think committed the robbery?” asked Ned. “It begins to
look as though Brown and Black were out of it; eh?”

“Not at all,” was the answer of the tall lad. “It was more likely them
than Noddy and Bill. Not that the latter wouldn’t do it if they had
the chance, but I don’t believe they know enough to drill a safe. Then
there are those queer tools we saw in the _Silver Star_. One of them
was a safe drill, I’m sure.”

“But do you think there were two airships circling around Harmolet the
night of the robbery?” asked Bob.

“It’s possible. We saw Noddy head in that direction, and though Brown
and Black left the aviation grounds before we reached them, they might
have returned to rob the bank. I’m sure they did it.”

“And I’m sure Noddy did,” declared Ned.

“But why was he so close to the statue?” asked Bob.

“There’s no telling,” answered Jerry. “Maybe he did it just for a
daring stunt. Leaving his name there makes it look that way.”

But Ned was sure Noddy and Bill had robbed the bank, and nothing his
chums could say would make him change his opinion.

“Then the only thing to do is to go to President Carter, tell him what
we have found out, and what we know, and let him do as he likes,”
suggested Jerry. “We’ll mention about the queer tools we saw in the
airship of Brown and Black, and how angry they were because we looked
at their machine. Then the police can get busy, but I don’t envy them
their job.”

“And you’ll tell about the conversation you overheard between Bill and
Noddy; won’t you?” asked Ned.

“Sure.”

“Then that’ll clinch the guilt on them all right, and we can divide the
reward between us.”

“Wait until we get it first,” advised Jerry drily.

Mr. Carter was much startled when told of the new developments in the
case, and when informed of the suspicions of Jerry and his chums.

“You did right not to speak of them before,” he said, “as the discovery
of the tires puts a different face on it. I, myself, believe those two
men Brown and Black, if those are their real names, are the guilty
persons.”

“You’ll find it was Noddy,” declared Ned firmly.

“Everyone is entitled to his own theory,” said the president with a
smile. “Now I am going to summon here as many of the directors as I can
get in touch with. I’d like them to hear the stories of you young men.
Would it be asking too much to request you to wait here?”

Jerry and his chums were willing, and the president sent out and got
the latest magazines for them to read while they were waiting.

“I may have an offer to make to you after the meeting,” he said with a
smile, when a messenger had informed him that several of the directors
were on their way to the bank.

The boys indulged in several speculations as to what Mr. Carter might
want with them after the meeting, which was soon being held in the
directors’ room. It was not a lengthy session, and in a little while a
messenger came to summon the boys.

“You are to appear before the president and directors,” he said in awed
tones.

“My! We’re getting to be quite important!” remarked Bob.

Mr. Carter came to the point at once.

“Young men,” he said, “I have told the directors what you have related
to me. They wish to thank you for the pains you have taken, and they
highly commend your course. Now they have a request to make of you.

“As you are doubtless aware, a reward of ten thousand dollars has been
offered for the arrest and conviction of the thieves. We thought we
would make it big, as the sum taken was large, and unless some of it at
least, is recovered, our bank may be seriously embarrassed. As it is we
have been able temporarily to tide over our affairs.

“Now, what I wish to know, and what these gentlemen have commissioned
me to ask you motor boys, is whether you will not undertake to find the
thieves for us?

“We’d like to have you undertake the search, not only because you have
discovered the first clews,” proceeded the president, “but because you
have an airship, and can thus go where no other persons could. The
police have no such advantage. Will you undertake this quest for us?”

Jerry looked at his chums, and they looked at him. Evidently they were
waiting for him to speak.

“May we--that is, I’d like to talk with my friends before answering,”
said Jerry, after a pause.

“Certainly. Take all the time you need.”

The tall lad drew his companions into a corner of the big room.

“Shall we do it, boys?” he asked.

“But we don’t know where to look for ’em, whether it’s Noddy, or those
other two fellows?” objected Ned.

“No, not yet, but we may be able to pick up some clews by circling
around Harmolet. Shall we have a try for the ten thousand?”

“I’m game,” declared Bob. “We were going off on a trip anyhow, to
help the professor get his flying frog, and we might as well combine
business with pleasure.”

“Well, I’m willing,” declared Ned.

“That settles it,” answered Jerry. “We’ll go!”

He turned to the president and announced the decision of himself and
his chums.

“Good!” exclaimed the bank official. “I was pretty sure you’d go. Now
as to details. Have you any idea where to begin to look?”

The boys hadn’t, and said so, but they had, in times past, gone off
on quests with even more slender clews to work on, so they were not
dismayed now. They said they would need a day to stock up the motorship
for a long voyage, and get plenty of gasolene aboard. Then, too, they
would have to send word of their intentions to their folks.

“Well, start as soon as you can,” urged the president, and they said
they would. In spite of their diffidence about taking funds for
expenses, the directors insisted on it, and a substantial sum was
advanced. It was really needed, as the boys had not brought much money
with them, and provisions were expensive.

They arranged to start on the following day, if possible and agreed to
keep in telegraphic touch with the bank officials. They were to work
independently of the police.

There were busy times ahead for our heroes. Hurrying back to the
aviation grounds they gave their craft a thorough overhauling, and
contracted for their supplies and stores.

They were ready to set sail on the afternoon of the following day,
having sent word to Cresville of their plans.

“Before we leave this vicinity, we’ll just stop off at the bank,
and see if there is any news,” said Jerry, as they flew up from the
aviation grounds.

They landed on the roof of the bank building row, partly because that
was the best place, and partly to show that it had been perfectly
feasible for the robbers to do so. A big crowd watched them.

“Have you any news before we leave?” asked Jerry of Mr. Carter.

“Not any,” he said. “You’ll have to depend on yourselves, I’m afraid.”

As he spoke a messenger came in with a telegram. Idly the president
opened it. As he did so an expression of surprise came over his face.

“Listen to this, boys!” he exclaimed. “There is news! This is from one
of our private detectives. He says: ‘Strangers in this town two days
ago, passing twenty dollar gold pieces. May be a clew.’ You know some
gold pieces were taken from our vault,” the president went on. “This
may be of some value to you.”

“What town is that from?” asked Jerry eagerly.

“Newton; in this state,” was the reply.

“Then we’ll head for Newton,” cried the tall lad. “Come on, fellows!”

A little later the motor boys were once more on the wing, on the trail
of the bank robbers.




CHAPTER XXIII

AFTER BROWN AND BLACK


Newton, as they had learned from a hasty inquiry just before they
started, making their flight as the robbers had, from the roof of the
bank, was a fairly large city about two hundred miles from Harmolet. It
lay in a westerly direction, and so far that fitted in with the plans
of Professor Snodgrass.

“First we’ll hear what Halwell, the private detective, has to say,”
decided Jerry. “He may be able to give us a clew. If there were men in
Newton, passing twenty dollar gold pieces right after the robbery, they
were probably Brown and Black.”

“Or Noddy and Bill,” put in Ned, who persisted in his theory.

“Have your own way,” spoke Jerry with a smile. “At any rate we’ll see
what the detective has to say. Of course many persons may have twenty
dollar gold pieces, but perhaps these men also passed big bills, and
there were a number of them taken from the bank vault.”

Meanwhile the _Comet_ was making good time in the direction of Newton.

They sighted the church spires of that place shortly after dinner, and
their descent into that quiet city was a great sensation. Every boy,
nearly all the girls, and a good proportion of the men and women were
on hand when our heroes came down, for an airship was a rarity in that
part of the country.

“And yet, if the bank robbers were here in one, spending money, I
shouldn’t think the folks would be so curious about ours,” remarked Bob.

“Maybe the burglars left their craft somewhere out in the woods, and
came in on foot,” suggested Ned.

“We’ll find out from Detective Halwell,” decided Jerry.

“Where will we locate him?” asked Ned.

“I told President Carter to wire him that we’d call on him at his
hotel--the Mansion House,” went on the tall lad. “As soon as we fix
things here so the boys won’t meddle, we’ll go and----”

“I’ll stay here and guard the craft,” interrupted the professor.

“Are you sure you won’t go off after the flying frog, or something
like that?” asked Jerry half jokingly.

“Oh, no!” the professor earnestly assured him. “This section of the
country is too much built-up to expect to find the frog here. Of course
if I see a rare insect anywhere near the airship I’ll get it. But I
won’t go so far away but what I can guard her.”

The boys left with that understanding, and as they started for the
hotel they looked back to see their scientific friend gravely pacing
the deck of the _Comet_, about which was gathered a curious crowd.

Detective Halwell was located at the hotel, and the boys were just in
time to catch him, for he was about to go out to meet them.

“I heard of your arrival,” he said. “I got Mr. Carter’s message, and I
was expecting you. Then I heard of the airship, and I knew it must be
you. Glad to meet you. Now how much of this case do you know, and what
can I do for you?”

Jerry quickly put the detective in possession of the facts already
known to my readers. In turn the tall lad asked:

“Did the robbers actually come here in their airship? If so can you
describe them to us, for we don’t know for sure whether it was Noddy
and Bill Berry, or Brown and Black.”

“I’m sure in my own mind,” interrupted Ned.

“I’m afraid it’s going to be hard to tell,” went on the private
detective. “From what I can learn it was a middle-aged man who passed
the twenty dollar gold pieces by which I got the clew. Now the best
plan would be to go to the person who changed the money and have him
describe this man. Then perhaps you could tell which one it was of the
four you suspect.”

“Good idea,” declared Jerry. “Who changed the gold piece?”

“It was a man who keeps a little hotel on a country road leading in to
this place,” replied the detective. “The way I happened to hear of it
was this. I’d been sent here by President Carter you see, to pick up
any clews I could. Naturally I made inquiries, and the other morning I
heard that the hotel clerk here had a twenty dollar gold piece, and was
doubtful whether or not it was genuine. I have had some experience in
counterfeiting cases, so I looked at it.

“I never saw any better money--it was Uncle Sam’s kind all right, and
I asked him where he got it. He said the night clerk had taken it in,
and as I was on the alert for anything like that, I kept on with my
inquiries until I found that the money had been paid in by this hotel
keeper I speak of--Hardy his name is. He came to town to do some
buying, and stopped here for his meal.

“Naturally I went after Hardy, but so far I haven’t been able to locate
him. He hasn’t been back home since he changed the money here.”

“Does that strike you as being suspicious?” asked Ned.

“No,” replied the detective, “for Hardy is well known hereabouts, and
is considered honest. I’ve found out that he’s visiting relatives and
expects to be back in his hotel to-day.”

“Then let’s take a run out there. We can go in the _Comet_ if it’s
far,” said Jerry eagerly.

“It’s not far enough,” said Mr. Halwell, “and besides it would create
too much talk if we descended in an airship. In a case like this the
less talk you stir up the better. If the burglars don’t know that we’re
so close on their trail they won’t be in such a hurry to move on. We’ll
go out in an auto. They’re common enough.”

They found Mr. Hardy, the hotel keeper, to be an elderly man, of a
genial disposition. He had just returned from a three-days’ visit to
relatives, and was very willing to talk.

“I did break the twenty dollar gold piece,” he admitted, “but I never
thought it would make such a rumpus. You see this is the way it was. I
was sitting all alone here one evening, a few nights ago, let me see it
was on Tuesday----”

“The night of the robbery!” interrupted Jerry.

“So I’ve been told,” went on Mr. Hardy. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have said
evening, for it was past midnight when I got ready to lock up and go to
bed, trade being dull. I was at the front door when I heard a racket
over head like when there’s a sharp clap of thunder--you know, one
of those close-by ones, that sound like whips snapping. I was quite
surprised, for the stars were out, and there wasn’t a sign of a storm.
The noise passed away in a second, but it gave me quite a start, and I
stayed by the front door a matter of several minutes, but I couldn’t
see anything.

“I was going on with my locking up, and was just ready to put out the
last light, when I heard a knock on the door. That startled me too, for
I hadn’t heard any rig drive up, nor any auto puffing, and this place
is rather far out for people to walk to. I didn’t like the thing at
all, but as I’m here to do business I went to the door. There stood two
men----”

“Not a man and a young fellow?” interrupted Ned eagerly.

“No, two men, rather middle-aged men. They were dressed like autoists,
and I was rather surprised at that, for I couldn’t see any car. They
apologized for coming in so late, and they asked me if they could get a
meal--anything cold--said they’d pay well for it.

“I didn’t like to bother at that time of night, as all my help had
gone to bed, but I like to be accommodating, so I told ’em to come in.
I asked ’em where their machine was, and they said they had a slight
accident and had left it down the road. I asked ’em what kind of an
auto it was, and how badly it was broken, for my son’s a machinist,
and handy with tools. I thought I might get him some work, but they
said they could fix it themselves, and one of ’em made a funny sort of
remark.”

“What did he say?” asked Jerry.

“He said they had broken one of the guy wires on the warping wing
tips,” replied Mr. Hardy. “That was the first auto I ever heard of
having wings, and I didn’t ask any more questions for fear they were
making game of me.

“To make a long story short I got ’em a meal, and they tossed me a
twenty dollar gold piece when they were through. I gave ’em change and
they hurried out into the darkness. I listened for some time, but I
couldn’t hear any auto chugging off, so I went to bed. That’s how I got
the gold piece, and I was so suspicious of it that I changed it the
first chance I got. But I told the Newton hotel clerk about it, and
I said if it turned out bad to let me know, and I’d make it right. I
thought maybe that’s what you had come out here for.”

“No, it was a genuine gold piece all right,” answered the detective.

“But what made you suspicious of it?” asked Jerry.

“Because of the way those men acted. I didn’t like their looks at all.”

“Can you describe them?” inquired Ned eagerly. Then in a low voice he
added to Jerry: “You know Noddy is big enough to be taken for a man.”

“Nonsense!” exclaimed the tall lad. “Listen to what he says.”

“I don’t know as I can describe the men better than to say that they
seemed suspicious of every one,” said Mr. Hardy. “As they ate they
kept shifting their gaze all around, as if they were afraid of some
one coming in unexpectedly. They both had sharp eyes, were of dark
complexion and were well dressed. One of them had his hand tied up in a
handkerchief and when I asked him if he’d hurt it in the auto accident
he said no at first, and then, as quick as a flash, he said he had. So
I thought that was queer.

“However, I had no complaint coming, and I’m glad the money was all
right. Now, does this description fit in with what you want?”

“It does!” declared Jerry. “I’m positive the men were Brown and Black,
and that they robbed the bank.”

“And I guess I’ve been wrong in thinking it was Noddy,” admitted Ned.
“Still what about the rag on the statue, and that suspicious talk?”

“We’ll consider that later,” replied Jerry. “This clears the
atmosphere, so to speak, and we know who we’re after. Now to get on the
trail of Brown and Black, who undoubtedly were in this vicinity with
their airship.”

“That’s what I think,” said the detective. “I’ll ask you to keep quiet
about this, Mr. Hardy.”

“Oh, sure.”

“Now for further clews,” went on Jerry. “I’m going to have a look to
see if we can find where they landed in the biplane when they came here
for their midnight supper.”




CHAPTER XXIV

THE LONELY FARMHOUSE


Regarding this place of landing Mr. Hardy could give the boys and the
detective no clew. He could only point out the direction taken by the
men when they left his hotel, and that was down the main country road.
He said he had soon lost them in the darkness.

“And I didn’t see which way they came, so I can’t even tell you that,”
said the innkeeper. “But they were surely two suspicious men if I ever
saw any.”

“Could you get any line on their conversation?” asked Jerry.

“No, for they talked in whispers when I was around. I did hear ’em
speak about the broken wing tip, or something like that, but I didn’t
take any stock in it. I never dreamed of an airship. I was thinking of
an auto all the while.”

“They were in an airship all right,” declared the tall lad. “And as
they would have to have quite a level place on which to land and get a
start from again, we’ll look for that. Come on, we’ll get back to the
_Comet_.”

They rose high in the air, and circled about the country looking for
the most favorable spot near the hotel of Mr. Hardy, where it was
likely an air ship would have landed.

“Yet as it was night, they couldn’t have had much choice fellows,”
spoke Bob.

“Especially with a broken warping wing,” added Ned.

“That last may have been only talk,” declared Jerry. “Brown and Black
are sharp enough for that. Besides, with a powerful search light, such
as they carried on their machine the first time we saw it, they could
pick out a clearing in the trees.”

“There’s a clearing down there now,” remarked the stout lad, pointing
to an opening in the forest. It was the first large one they had
sighted, and it was at once decided to drop down to it.

But they got no clews there. The glade was carpeted with long green
grass, and even if an airship had landed there the marks of the wheels
would scarcely have made an impression. Or, if there had been such
marks, the wind would soon have effaced them.

“Try again,” suggested Jerry, as they got ready to rise as a balloon,
for there was hardly room enough to manipulate the _Comet_ as an
aeroplane.

The rest of that day they circled about, descending into several
clearings in the hope of coming upon the one where Brown and Black had
temporarily left their machine. But it was of no use.

“I guess I’d better get back to my hotel,” announced the detective, as
night came on. “I can’t do anything more for you boys, and I want to
wire a report to Mr. Carter. There’s no use of me staying in Newton any
longer, for it’s evident now that Brown and Black are far away.”

“Yes, so far that I doubt if we ever catch them,” remarked Ned
dubiously.

“Oh, yes we will,” exclaimed Jerry confidently. “We’ll not give up yet.
We’ll keep on going west, for I believe that’s where we’ll find them.”

“And that’s where we’ll get my flying frog,” put in the professor.

Night saw the boys heading due west in their craft, the detective
having alighted on the outskirts of the town, to make his way back to
his hotel. He wished them all success.

“We’ll travel all night,” decided Jerry to his chums, “for I believe
those men will make long flights, and it’s no use looking for them
within several hundred miles of this place. They’d want to put as
great a distance as possible between themselves and Harmolet.”

“That’s right,” agreed Ned, who was now converted to the views of his
two chums. “We’ll keep on until daylight, and then go down and make
inquiries as to whether or not any airships have been seen lately.”

The hours of darkness passed without incident, and when morning came
the boys found themselves over a small country town. They were flying
low enough so that the craft was speedily made out by some early
risers. The word quickly went around, and soon there was a good-sized
crowd gazing earnestly upward.

“Shall we go down?” asked Jerry.

“Might as well,” decided Ned.

But their anxious inquiries resulted in nothing. There had been no
signs of any other airship, and theirs was the first the inhabitants of
the town had ever seen. Nor had any one heard the noise of the motors
of one of the craft passing onward in the night.

When they were ready to start again, Professor Snodgrass, as usual, was
not on hand. They made a search for him, and found him on the bank of
the mill pond, industriously catching frogs in his net. He had engaged
half a dozen enthusiastic boys, promising that whoever found the
flying frog would get five dollars. The boys had dozens of the hapless
creatures in tin cans, but all proved to be of the ordinary kind.

“I guess we’ll have to look farther west,” admitted the scientist with
a sigh, as he accompanied the boys back to the air ship. “Though when I
saw those insects I thought sure I’d have my frog. However, I’m on the
right track, I’m positive of that.”

“I wish we were just as positive,” remarked Jerry, as he and Ned
started the gas machine, and sent the _Comet_ aloft again.

Once more on the wing, the airship made rapid progress through space.
The boys swept about in great circles, now scanning the sky dome with
powerful glasses for a possible sight of the _Silver Star_, and again
descending to some quiet country town to make inquiries. They avoided
the big cities, since they argued that Brown and Black, in their
efforts to escape observation, would do the same thing.

But as the days passed, and they were no nearer the trail of the
thieves, the confidence of even the optimistic Jerry began to wane.
Still he had no thought of giving up. The boys took a lesson from
Professor Snodgrass, who, though disappointed many times in finding his
flying frog, always approached every new pond full of confidence.

“I’ll get it yet!” he declared sturdily.

“And we’ll get Brown and Black!” asserted Jerry.

It was nearly a week since they had set out from Harmolet. In that time
they had communicated with President Carter several times, but only
to say that they were still on the trail. In turn the bank president
had wired that there were no new developments at his end. The boys had
telegraphed to their folks, and had received messages and greetings in
return.

Toward the close of a warm, sultry afternoon, when they were sailing
over a lonely stretch of country, Jerry called to Ned to look at the
barometer.

“Why, what’s up?” asked Ned.

“It feels like a storm, and if one’s coming I think we’d better go down
and wait until it’s over. Is the mercury falling?”

“By Jove! It is going down,” reported the lad. “I guess we’re in for
it.”

A little later there was noticed a bank of dark and angry-looking
clouds in the west, and from them came fitful flashes of lightning,
while the distant rumble of thunder could be heard.

“Better go down,” advised Bob. “It’s going to break soon.”

“I was waiting until I saw a little better place to make a descent,”
answered Jerry, peering anxiously ahead through the gathering
murkiness. “It’s a pretty rough country here--nothing but woods.”

“Well, we can stay in the air ship cabin,” retorted Ned. “Go ahead down
Jerry.”

“All right,” assented the tall lad. He pulled the deflecting lever,
and, as he did so there was a sharp snapping sound.

“What’s that?” cried Bob in alarm.

“Lightning!” answered Ned.

“No, something broken,” declared Jerry. “It’s a main brace, too,” he
added a moment later. “We’ll have to go down now whether we want to or
not. That brace will have to be heated, and welded together before we
can run the machinery at full speed. Here we go!”

The _Comet_ shot downward on a long slant, and a moment later there was
a vivid flash of lightning, followed by a crashing peal of thunder.

The night was brilliantly illuminated for an instant, and Bob cried
out:

“There’s a house. Head for that, Jerry!”

Jerry and Ned had also seen, revealed in the flash of celestial fire,
a lonely farmhouse in the midst of a little clearing. The airship had
suddenly shot over it on her downward course.

“That’s a good place to land!” cried Jerry above the noise of another
clap of thunder. “Head for the barn yard!”

An instant later there came a deluge of rain, and in the midst of it
the airship came to the earth rather suddenly, for a gust of wind upset
Jerry’s calculations with the rudder.

As the _Comet_ came to rest, after shooting across the yard in front of
the barn, a man came running from the farmhouse.

“By Peter! Another one of the critters!” he cried. “Hey, you fellers!
Come on in the house! Come in the house!”

“No, we’ll go in the barn, after we fasten down the ship!” shouted
Jerry.

“Come in the house I tell you! Keep out of that barn! Come in the
house!” And the farmer who seemed greatly excited over something,
fairly grasped Jerry by the arm, as the widow’s son alighted from the
ship, and led him toward the house.




CHAPTER XXV

QUEER ACTIONS


Ned and Bob were already out in the rain, getting ready to make the
anchor ropes fast to the nearest firm objects. They gazed somewhat
curiously after Jerry, wondering where he was going with the farmer.
Professor Snodgrass, after seeing that all his specimen boxes were
safely put away, had come out and was helping the two boys.

“I’ll have to give them a hand,” shouted Jerry above the noise of the
storm. “Can we wheel the airship under the shed? I see you have one by
the barn.”

“Not that shed--the one over here,” answered Mr. Rossmore pointing to
another, somewhat removed from the big barn. “That shed ain’t safe. It
might tumble down and smash your air machine. Wheel it over to that
other shed, and then come in the house. Land sakes! This is a fearful
storm.”

He made another grab for Jerry’s arm, but the tall lad avoided the
grasp, at the same time wondering at the strange behavior of the farmer.

“He wants to be hospitable all right,” mused the widow’s son, “but he
takes a queer way of showing it. Wait a minute,” he called to Bob and
Ned, “I’ll give you a hand. We’re going to put her under the shed. I
guess it’s big enough.”

“Bur-r-r-r-r! It’s awful wet rain!” exclaimed Ned, as a stream of water
ran down his neck. “Who’s your friend, Jerry?”

“Hush. I don’t know, except that his name’s Hiram Rossmore. He wants us
to come in the house. He’s a bit queer. Here he comes.”

The farmer had followed Jerry as the latter turned back toward the
airship; and Mr. Rossmore, together with the boys and Professor
Snodgrass, wheeled the _Comet_ toward a big wagon shed, which
fortunately proved large enough to accommodate the craft. Not that rain
would spoil it, but in a terrific thunder storm, such as was now in
progress, and with a stiff wind blowing, there was danger of damage to
the somewhat frail machine.

It was soon under shelter and well secured with ropes, while Jerry went
inside to make a quick inspection of the broken brace.

“It will need a blacksmith shop to repair it,” he reported to his chums.

“Wa’al, can ye come in th’ house now?” asked Mr. Rossmore, as he stood
under the shed, at the side of the motorship. “This is a bigger shebang
than the other--I mean it’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, then you’ve seen one before?” asked Jerry with a quick and warning
glance at his chums.

“Yes, I saw one on exhibition at our county fair,” was the disappointing
answer. “It wasn’t so big as this, and was some different.”

“We are looking for an airship that belongs to--er--well, to some men
we know,” spoke Jerry. “It may be sailing around here. We’re looking
for it.”

“Wa’al, I guess you won’t find it here,” said the man, with rather
an uneasy laugh. “Now come on in the house and dry off. I live all
alone exceptin’ for the hired man, and he’s gone to town to-day, so
we’ll have the place to ourselves. Come on in the house. That barn’s
dangerous in a thunderstorm--in fact it’s dangerous most any time. It’s
likely to fall. I wouldn’t go too near it if I was you.”

Jerry looked at the barn in question. It seemed well made, and solid,
being in good repair. He looked at Mr. Rossmore. The farmer was
glancing anxiously about, as though to assure himself that all four
airship travelers were following him. Then, as if apparently satisfied
on this point, he hurriedly led the way through the pelting rain to the
farmhouse.

Jerry and the boys looked about them. Save for the clearing in which
the house and other structures stood they were surrounded by a great
forest. It was a very lonesome place.

“Did you have some accident?” asked the man, as he opened the door of a
spacious farmhouse, and ushered them in.

“Yes, we broke one of the main braces of the motor,” answered Jerry.
“Is there a blacksmith shop around here? Or have you a portable forge
we could use?”

“No, I haven’t any. But there’s a shop about ten miles away. You might
go there after the storm is over. But stay in the house until it is.
You see I come here for solitude. I don’t have much of a farm. This was
a big one once, but it’s mostly growed up to second growth now, and I
sell some lumber. I don’t farm it.”

“It’s a pretty nice place for a bachelor,” observed Jerry, looking
around, and noting that the house showed a woman’s care. There were
many evidences that other hands than those of men had to do with the
place.

“Oh, I ain’t a bachelor,” was the quick answer. “My wife’s gone to
visit some relations, and I let the hired man have a vacation too. So
I’m all alone. But make yourselves to home. Peel off your wet things if
you want to. I’ll get some blankets you can wrap up in, and there’s a
good fire in the kitchen. Then I’ll get you something to eat.”

“That’ll be good!” exclaimed Bob, so earnestly that his chums laughed.

“You mustn’t mind him,” apologized Jerry to the farmer. “It’s his one
failing to be always hungry.”

“Better tell some of your own,” murmured the stout lad.

Mr. Rossmore laughed and left the room, soon returning with a pile of
blankets. The boys and the professor, going out in front of the big
kitchen stove, divested themselves of their outer garments, and were
soon warm and comfortable, while their wet clothes were drying before
the oven.

“Now, for a meal,” went on the farmer. “I’ll do my best for you. I just
cooked some chicken, so I’ll warm it up.”

Bob’s eyes sparkled in anticipation. They were left to themselves for a
few minutes while they heard Mr. Rossmore rummaging about down in the
cellar, evidently after the victuals.

“Does anything strike you as peculiar?” asked Jerry of his chums, as
he noted that Professor Snodgrass was trying to capture a fly that was
buzzing on the window pane.

“About what?” asked Ned.

“About this farmer--and this place.”

“It looks comfortable,” remarked Bob. “Comfortable, and--and a good
place to stay. He’s going to feed us well, too!”

“Oh, that’s all you think of, Chunky! I mean doesn’t Mr. Rossmore
strike you as rather odd?”

“It was kind of funny, him not wanting you to go out in the barn,” said
Ned.

“That’s what I mean. Now I think----” and Jerry drew closer to his
companions.

But what Jerry thought he did not at that moment say, for at that
instant there sounded outside, and above the noise of the rain on the
roof, a loud cry.

“That came from the barn!” cried Bob.

“Sure!” assented Ned.

Their voices were silenced in a terrific clap of thunder that followed
a vivid flash. Professor Snodgrass jumped back from the window in some
alarm.

“Look!” cried Jerry pointing outside where the rain was coming down in
torrents. What he saw, and what the others saw was Mr. Rossmore rushing
toward the barn at full speed--toward the barn against which he had
warned our heroes.




CHAPTER XXVI

THE WOUNDED MEN


“Well, what do you make of that?” asked Ned, as they watched their host
disappear inside the big structure.

“Didn’t that call come from there?” asked Bob.

“Sure,” assented Jerry. “And Mr. Rossmore ran out there as soon as he
heard it. He must have gone from the cellar by the outside door.”

“What do you suppose he ran out to the barn for in the rain?” asked Bob.

“Because he has something there that needs his attention,” decided
Jerry. “We heard the yell, out he rushed, and he went suddenly.
Whatever he has out there he doesn’t want us to see; that’s evident.”

“We’ll see if we can’t discover it,” suggested Ned. “I don’t like the
looks of things around here. Shall we tell Mr. Rossmore why we’re
looking for the other airship, Jerry?”

The tall lad shook his head.

“Why not?” persisted Ned. “Don’t you recall what he said when he caught
sight of us?--something about it being ‘another one of th’ critters.’
That looks suspicious.”

“There are a lot of things that look suspicious,” agreed the widow’s
son, “but we can’t solve them that way. We must be as foxy as this
farmer is, that is, if he is trying to play foxy; keep our eyes open,
listen with both ears, and we’ll see what happens. Meanwhile say as
little as possible, let him think we are falling in with his ideas, and
he may betray himself. Here he comes back. Don’t let him see that we’ve
been watching.”

Mr. Rossmore must have known that his trip to the barn had been
observed, for instead of coming in through the cellar, the way he had
gone out, he came in by the back entry of the kitchen.

“I had to go out in the barn--I’ve got a sick horse there,” he
explained. “Maybe you boys heard him neighing.”

“We heard some noise out that way, but the storm made such a racket we
couldn’t be sure,” spoke Jerry.

“Yes, it was my horse. He’s in a bad way.”

“I shouldn’t think you’d keep him in a barn that was in danger of
tumbling down,” remarked Ned, with a wink at his chums.

“Oh, I don’t know as the barn is going to fall right away. Still it’s
best to be on the safe side with folks. Now I’ll go ahead and get up
the victuals. If you hear any more noises from the barn--well, don’t go
out there, that’s all. That horse might get loose and hurt you.”

“We won’t,” promised Jerry. “Not in this rain.”

For it was pouring harder than ever, though the thunder and lightning
were not so severe. Mr. Rossmore was drenched by his trip to the
barn, but he did not seem to mind. In a short time he had set out a
substantial meal, Bob offering to help, of which services the farmer
availed himself.

“Isn’t there any blacksmith shop nearer than ten miles?” asked Jerry,
after the meal. “That’s too far to go in our airship with a broken
brace. If we can’t find one nearer we’ll have to make temporary repairs
ourselves.”

“Well, it might not be quite ten miles,” said the farmer, in what the
boys thought was an eager tone. “In fact perhaps it isn’t more than
three or four. I guess you could get there all right. When are you
going to start?”

“In the morning,” answered Jerry, for it was now unusually dark,
because of the heavy clouds overhead.

“Oh, then you’re calculating on staying here all night,” spoke the
farmer. “Well, now, I’m sorry, but you see I’ve only got one bed--that
is I’ve got more, but they’ve been taken down to be painted, and
they’re not dry. The bed clothes have gone to the wash woman’s too. In
fact that’s why my wife went away. We’re sort of house cleaning, and
the only bed fit to use is a couch I sleep on.”

“Oh, we wouldn’t think of troubling you!” interposed Jerry. “We’ll go
aboard the _Comet_ and sleep there. We always do. We have plenty of
bunks.” The more he saw of the queer man the less he liked the idea of
spending the night under his roof.

“Oh, if you’ve got your own accommodations it’s all right,” went on Mr.
Rossmore. “I can give you plenty of victuals.”

“That’s good!” exclaimed Bob, involuntarily.

“We have plenty of things to eat, too,” went on Jerry, who felt a
growing distrust of the farmer, “though we are much obliged for what
you have given us. We’ll go aboard our craft now, I think, and in the
morning we’ll see if we can get to the smithy.”

“Well, it’s quite a bad break,” remarked Jerry a little later when,
as they were all on the airship, he and his chums had made another
inspection of the fracture. “There must have been a flaw in the steel.
I don’t believe we’d better risk going on to the blacksmith shop.”

“What will you do?” asked Ned.

“Make a new brace here. We can build a sort of forge out of stones and
heat the metal enough I guess. I can make a temporary repair, that will
last until we can get to a machine shop.”

“Then we’ll stay on at this place a little longer, eh?” asked Bob.

“Yes, until to-morrow afternoon anyhow.”

“That will give us a chance to do some investigating,” decided the
merchant’s son. “I want to see inside that barn.”

“So do I,” agreed Jerry, “but we’ll have to be careful how we go about
it. I guess Mr. Rossmore will be on the lookout.”

“He doesn’t go to bed with the chickens, at any rate,” observed Bob.
“He’s got a light in the kitchen, and seems to be moving about, if the
shadow on the curtain goes for anything.”

It was evident that the farmer was up and about, for the moving shadow
was visible until nearly midnight. By this time the storm was over, and
our heroes, who had been waiting up for a chance to make at least a
tour outside the barn, had about decided to go to bed.

Jerry could not get to sleep, though he was soon made aware by the
heavy breathing of Bob and Ned that they were slumbering. But the tall
lad was thinking of many things. At last, after tossing restlessly on
his bed for some time, he got up and partly dressed.

“I think I’ll take a turn outside,” he thought. “Maybe I can get in the
barn now, if that suspicious farmer is asleep.”

But Jerry’s hopes were doomed to disappointment. He had no sooner gone
a few paces toward the forbidden barn than a hail came from the now
darkened house.

“Who’s there?” called the voice of the farmer.

“It’s me--Jerry Hopkins,” was the reply.

“Oh--do you want anything--any of you boys sick?”

“No, I--I was just looking out--I couldn’t sleep. I’m going back now.”

“Oh--all right,” was the noncommital answer.

“No use trying that--he’s on guard,” mused Jerry as he got back into
bed. “I’ll have to wait.”

The tall lad told his chums the next morning of his experience, and
they agreed that there was something very strange about the matter.
They got an early breakfast in the _Comet_, and at once set to work
making a temporary forge to weld a new brace.

“I thought you were going to the blacksmith’s,” remarked the farmer, as
he saw what they were doing.

“We concluded it wouldn’t be safe,” replied Jerry. “No objection to
making a fire here, is there? We’ll keep it inside the stones, and not
set the barn afire.”

“Oh, that--that’s all right,” said the farmer with an obvious effort.
“But don’t go in--that horse is dangerous.”

All that morning the boys worked hard at the new brace. They had it
nearly finished and were getting ready to attach it. In the meanwhile
Mr. Rossmore had been hovering about them, never very far away, and
always keeping between them and the barn, which structure he entered
several times, taking with him bottles of medicine.

“We’ll never get in there,” grumbled Ned.

“Take it easy,” advised Jerry. And then, most unexpectedly, their
chance came. A man who was driving past in the road called to Mr.
Rossmore, who was hoeing in the garden near his house. The farmer,
after a quick glance at the boys, who were busy over their forge,
hastened to the fence, and soon was in earnest talk with the horseman.

“Now’s our chance!” exclaimed Ned. “Jerry, you slip over to the barn.
Rossmore can’t see you from where he stands. I’ll hang your coat on
this stake, and Bob and I will crowd up around it so it will look as if
all three of us are here at the fire. Go ahead and be quick about it.”

Jerry saw that the plan was a good one. With a quick glance to assure
himself that Mr. Rossmore was still at the fence, the tall lad hurried
toward the barn. The big front doors were locked, but Jerry ran around
to the back, and there found a portal open. It was the work of but an
instant to slip inside.

At first, coming in out of the bright light, he could see nothing. Then
his eyes became accustomed to the darkness. He moved forward, and as
his feet echoed over the rough boards the lad was startled by a call:

“Who’s there?” asked a voice.

“Where are you?” inquired Jerry in turn. He heard some sharp whispers,
and then, before he could move, a door was thrown open. It gave a view
of a large, light harness room, but it was not the sight of horse
trappings that attracted Jerry’s attention.

Lying on a cot in the room was a man whose head was done up in
bandages, while holding the door open was another wounded man leaning
on a crutch. The latter caught one view of Jerry, and then the door
was slammed shut with a bang. At the same instant there sounded that
loud cry that Jerry had heard once before. His blood was chilled as the
echoes vibrated through the old barn.




CHAPTER XXVII

THE CAPTURE


For one instant Jerry Hopkins was almost inclined to believe that
what he had seen was part of a dream. Then as the nerve-racking yells
continued to vibrate through the barn, he knew that they came from real
men.

And the faces of those men!

It was like some vision of the night. He racked his brain for a
remembrance.

“Where have I seen them before--those wounded men? I’m sure----” He
paused irresolutely.

His musing was interrupted by the breathless entrance of Ned and Bob.

“Jerry!” cried the stout lad. “Are you hurt?”

“What’s the matter?” gasped Ned. “Was that you calling, Jerry?”

They could not see him at first, coming in from the bright sunlight,
but in a few seconds they could make out the form of their tall chum,
as he stood staring at the closed door of the harness room whence came
those terrific cries.

“I have it!” fairly shouted Jerry. “Now I know who they are! Boys we’ve
found the bank robbers!”

“Found the bank robbers?” repeated Ned.

“Yes. Brown and Black! They’re in there--in that harness room! I had
a glimpse of them. They’re both wounded. They must have met with an
accident. They can’t get away. We’ve found them!”

“Now for the ten thousand dollars reward!” cried Ned.

“And this is why that farmer didn’t want us to come in the barn,” went
on Jerry. “He had these men hidden here!”

Hardly had he spoken when the farmer in question came fairly bursting
into the barn, entering from the big main doors. Mr. Rossmore was
greatly excited. He saw the boys at once.

“Here! What does this mean?” he cried. “Didn’t I tell you to keep out
of here? Now get out at once and stay out. Clear out of my place! Get
away, do you hear?”

“Yes, we hear, but we’re not going,” said Jerry calmly.

“We came to see that sick horse,” spoke Ned, sarcastically.

“Get out!” cried the farmer angrily, advancing toward them, with a
threatening gesture.

“Don’t move, boys,” came the advice from Jerry. “We’ll have this thing
out. Go call the professor, Bob,” for Mr. Snodgrass had been catching
bugs in a field near where our heroes were working when Jerry decided
to investigate the mystery of the barn.

“Look here! What does this mean?” blustered Mr. Rossmore, as Bob
slipped out of the small door.

“It means just this,” went on Jerry, while another of the strange
cries, though not so loud as the previous ones, echoed through the
structure, “it means that you are concealing here two men who robbed
the Harmolet National Bank of two hundred and ten thousand dollars, and
carried it away in an airship! It means that Brown and Black--to give
them the names they go under--are in that harness room, and it means
that we have discovered them. It also means that we are going to cause
their arrest, and that if you interfere with the course of justice you
lay yourself liable to a charge of aiding criminals. That’s what it
means!”

Jerry spoke with great firmness, and the attitude of himself and Ned
was such that the farmer was cowed.

“Rob--robbers!” he stammered. “Two hundred and ten thousand dollars!
Why that’s nonsense! Those men are not thieves.”

“What are they then?” asked Ned.

“One of them has been wrongly confined in a lunatic asylum,” went on
the farmer. “He is Mr. Hendrix, and the other man is Mr. Clark, a
friend of his. Mr. Clark managed to get his friend out of the asylum,
and was taking him away in an airship. They got over my place and had
an accident. They both fell from the airship into a tree, and were
badly hurt. They appealed to me for help, and offered me a large sum
if I would conceal them, so that they would not be captured by the
asylum authorities. The asylum people want to keep Mr. Hendrix in their
possession so they can get his valuable property, but his friend is
trying to prevent this. That is why I am concealing them, and why I did
not want you to go near the barn. I deceived you, I admit, but I cannot
believe that they are robbers. If I had known that they were----”

“Suppose you come in that room with us, and let us ask them a few
questions, about the box of strange tools they carried on their
airship,” suggested Jerry. “I think that will convince you.”

“I’m willing,” agreed the farmer. “I never would have believed such
nice gentlemen could be robbers. They told such a straight story. And
I saw them fall from their airship. So when I saw you arrive in yours
I thought you were from the asylum after them, and I tried to get you
away from the barn.”

“Just confront them with us, and we’ll soon prove that the story they
told you was all made-up,” said Jerry eagerly.

“All right, come on,” agreed Mr. Rossmore. “I don’t want to do nothing
wrong.”

Again there came that terrifying yell.

“My gracious! What’s that?” gasped the professor.

“That’s Mr. Hendrix--the supposed lunatic. He is badly hurt, and
delirious from pain,” explained Mr. Rossmore. “His friend and I have to
give him quieting medicine whenever he gets one of those fits. That’s
why I ran here. He is suffering greatly.”

“Well, we can’t let even a bank burglar suffer,” said the scientist, to
whom Jerry quickly explained what the farmer had told them. “I’ll take
a look at him, and you boys can make sure you are not mistaken in your
identity. Then we can decide on what to do. They can’t get away.”

With the farmer leading the way the boys and the professor entered the
harness room. If any other confirmation was needed that the suspicions
of our heroes were true, it came when Clark, _alias_ Black, exclaimed
as he caught sight of the boys:

“Well, the jig is up!”

“Yes, I guess it is,” said Jerry grimly. “You made a bold effort, but
fate was against you. Where is the money?”

“We haven’t got it,” growled the least injured of the two burglars.

“Haven’t got it?”

“No, it’s in the airship. I might as well tell the truth now.”

“In the airship? And where is that?” demanded the professor.

“How should I know?” snapped Black, while his companion tossed
feverishly on the narrow cot. “We both fell out when it nearly turned
turtle, then it righted itself again, and sailed off over the forest,
the engine set at full speed. It’ll run until the gasolene gives out,
or until it’s wrecked, I suppose. But we’ll have to have a doctor for
him,” and he nodded at his companion. “He’s getting worse. The game’s
up. I’m ready to take my medicine. One of my legs is broken, and I’m
hurt inside. Oh, how I suffer! We did rob the bank. I confess. We laid
our plans a long time ahead and thought if we used an aeroplane no one
could trace us.”

“He must have a doctor, and that soon,” declared the professor. “He
is in a bad state; indeed both are. Boys, word must be sent to the
authorities at once, and these men must be taken to a hospital under
police guard.”

“And to think they told me they were escaping from an asylum,” murmured
Mr. Rossmore. “I can’t get over it!”

“Was it true what they said about the airship going on after they fell
out?” asked Jerry eagerly.

“It was,” replied the farmer. “It went sailing over the trees like a
big bird.”

“Which way?” asked Ned, for he was thinking of the treasure on board.

“I didn’t notice,” was the answer.

“Which way did it go?” went on the tall lad, turning to the robber who
went by the name of Black or Clark.

“Hey?” The man gazed almost stupidly at Jerry. There was a strange
light in his eyes.

“Which way did the airship go?” repeated the lad.

“It went to Africa,” was the unexpected answer. “The engine was set
to carry it to Borneo, and from there we are to pick up the Japanese
Mikado and go on a pleasure jaunt in the Andes mountains. We’re going
to race with the condor birds. Ha! Ha! We’ll lead a jolly life. Pass
over that juice, Bill, I’ve got the hole drilled!” he exclaimed. “Look
out now! It’s going off! Oh, maybe we haven’t made a haul this time.”

With a shriek he fell back on the cot, beside his companion who was
moaning in pain.

“Delirious--out of his head,” murmured Professor Snodgrass. “I doubt if
we can get any more information from either of them right away. They
must have medical attention, and the police must come here.”

“I’ll go for them,” volunteered Jerry. “Ned and I can manage the
_Comet_ if you and Bob will stay here and guard them.”

“I’ll help,” volunteered the farmer. “I’m with you boys now.”

They accepted his offer. Professor Snodgrass administered some quieting
medicine to both wounded men. A little later Ned and Jerry started for
the nearest town for a doctor and the proper authorities.

“And then we’ll go off after the airship treasure,” decided Jerry.

“We’ll have a hard time hunting it,” declared Ned.

Both robbers were in the delirium of high fever when the doctor reached
them. He at once took charge, and the constable formally placed the
strange men under arrest as the bank robbers, though Brown and Black
of course did not realize this. Then, being made as comfortable as
possible, they were taken in the airship to a hospital, Mr. Rossmore
remaining at his farmhouse a very much surprised man.

A telegram was sent to the bank authorities telling them of the
capture, and stating that the boys would try to recover the treasure.
Then, arranging to have the robbers sent to Harmolet for trial as
soon as they were well enough, the boys and the professor entered the
_Comet_ and headed her once more back toward the farmhouse.

“We’ll get the direction as nearly as we can from Mr. Rossmore in which
the _Silver Star_ disappeared after the men fell out,” said Jerry, “and
then we’ll go on a hunt. Think of a big fortune being lost somewhere in
these woods!” and he pointed to the vast, lonely forest below them.




CHAPTER XXVIII

TOSSED BY THE STORM


Very little information could be obtained from Mr. Rossmore. He was
so “flustered,” as he expressed it, from what had taken place, and so
unnerved by the thought that he had been harboring in his barn two
desperate bank robbers, that he could hardly answer simple questions.

“All I know,” he said, “is that I was out in the garden when their
airship whizzed overhead. It flopped on one side, and the men were
spilled out. They fell in a tree, or they’d have been killed instantly.
I ran to help them, so I didn’t notice which way their machine went
off.”

“But you must have some idea,” insisted Jerry.

“Well, as near as I can tell it went over that way,” and he pointed to
the west. “It’s a terrible lonesome country there. Once you get lost
it’s all up with you.”

“We don’t intend to get lost,” declared Ned.

Nothing more could be gained by questioning the farmer, and, after
paying him for his hospitality our friends looked over their craft to
see if it was in shape for another long flight.

The repairs made to the brace had been completed, and the machinery was
in perfect order. There was also plenty of gasolene and provisions and
stores on board.

“We’ll just have to cruise about until we sight the airship that got
away from the robbers,” decided Jerry.

“You don’t suppose it’s floating yet; do you?” asked Ned.

“No, it must have run out of gasolene some time ago, to say nothing of
being deflected downward by the wind, and crashing into a tree. No,
we’ll have to look on the ground in the forest for this craft.”

“And maybe the bank treasure isn’t on it after all,” suggested Bob.

“Maybe not, Chunky. Yet if those robbers had it about them we’d have
discovered it. And I don’t believe they have hidden it in the barn.
Well, let’s start.”

All the rest of that day they cruised about in the air, occasionally
veering to the left or right, for they could not be certain that the
pilotless _Silver Star_ would keep to a straight course.

“If we only knew which way the wind was blowing at the time their
airship scooted off by herself, we might know better how to search,”
observed Bob, pausing in his work of getting supper.

“Yes, and if we knew how much gasolene she carried, we could tell how
long her engine would run, and if we knew just where she had fallen in
these woods we’d go there and find her,” added Jerry. “But we don’t
know those things, so we’ve got to do the best we can.”

“I certainly hope I get a chance to look for my flying frog,” put in
the professor. “We are getting over the region now where they are to be
found.”

“We’ll do the best we can for you,” promised the tall lad.

On and on they went. Night came, and they descended in a small
clearing, for in the darkness they did not want to run over the place
where the wrecked airship might be. Morning again saw them on the wing.

It was about noon, when Jerry, who had paid several anxious visits to
the barometer, came back into the pilot house where Ned was steering.

“What’s up?” asked the merchant’s son.

“We’re in for another storm--a worse one than the thunder and
lightning kind we had the time we landed at the lonely farmhouse,”
replied the tall lad. “It’s going to be a blow.”

“Well, can’t we weather it?”

“I suppose so. We could go down now, as there are several clearings
around us. But if we do we may lose a chance of discovering the airship
treasure.”

“Then keep on,” advised Ned.

“The only thing is,” resumed Jerry, “that if we get in the midst of a
stiff blow we may not be able to land when we want to, on account of
the thick trees.”

“I guess we’ll have to take the chance,” went on the other. “We’ll get
everything snug, and then, when it does come on to blow, we’ll be in
shape for it.”

Everything loose about the airship was made fast. Jerry and his chums,
with Professor Snodgrass to help them (for the scientist left off his
bug collecting pursuits when he saw the storm coming up) went over the
machinery, and saw that it was in good working order. The gas container
was filled with the vapor under double pressure, ready to be used in
case of emergency.

Then all they could do was to wait, meanwhile sailing slowly on,
peering down through the gathering murkiness for a sight of the
disabled biplane.

The storm broke with a suddenness that was almost terrifying. It came
with a dash of rain, some thunder and lightning, and then these ceased,
while the wind blew as the boys had seldom seen it blow before. In an
instant they were tossed skyward, and then hurled toward the earth, and
had not Jerry quickly set the rising rudder they might have been dashed
upon the tree tops.

The wind now became a perfect gale, and on the wings of it they were
hurled forward, almost faster than their powerful propellers could
carry them. They were tossed hither and thither by the storm, and only
Jerry’s skill, aided as he was by his chums, prevented a wreck in the
first few minutes of the opening blasts on the trumpet of the storm
king.

“Can’t you go up higher, and get away from it?” yelled Ned into Jerry’s
ear.

“If we do we may miss the _Silver Star_,” was the answer. For it was
not so dark but that the white and flapping expanse of the planes of
the wrecked airship could be noticed in case the boys sighted her.

Forward they were hurled, Jerry trying to keep at about the same
distance above the forest, but finding it hard work. It was over an
unbroken woods that they were now moving. Not a clearing was to be seen
in the many miles they covered in a short space of time.

“We’re going to have trouble when we want to land to-night,” remarked
the tall lad. “I doubt if we can do it.”

“We can’t unless we get to a clearing,” declared Ned.

“Or a lake,” added Bob.

With a swoop the _Comet_ went sailing upward, as a fiercer blast of the
wind caught under her big planes, and Jerry strained at the lever of
the deflecting rudder to bring her down.

“Give us a hand here!” he cried to his chums, and they sprang to his
side.

Slowly the airship was forced downward, and then on she went on the
wings of the gale, swaying from side to side, while the wind howled
through her wire rigging as if in glee at the fate in store for her.




CHAPTER XXIX

THE WRECKED AIRSHIP


Several hours passed, and it was only by the greatest skill that Jerry
and his companions were able to keep their craft on a level keel.
Several times she almost turned turtle, and they were in danger of
being hurled to earth as the unfortunate bank robbers had been.

Night was approaching, and still the _Comet_ hurled herself forward
through the heart of the storm. Finally Jerry, who had gone to the
motor room, while Ned steered, came back to the pilot house.

“We’ve got to go down,” he said. “We can’t stand this much longer.
It’s getting worse; and besides, we can’t look for the airship in the
darkness. We’ll have to make a landing.”

“But how can we--in that?” and Ned pointed to the vast expanse of black
forest below them. “We’ll be torn to pieces on the trees.”

“We’ll have to wait until we see a comparatively clear place, of
course. Even then it’s going to be risky; but we’ve got to do it. Tell
Bob to watch out for a clearing.”

Eagerly they all watched, while the darkness gathered more densely. The
storm had not abated a bit, and it was now raining again, the drops
whipping against the airship almost like hail, such was the force of
the wind.

Suddenly Bob, who had donned a rain coat, and a rubber hat with a flap
that came to his shoulders, uttered a cry, and pointed downward and to
the left.

“What is it?” called Jerry.

“A clearing--a big place--make for it!”

Ned sprang to his chum’s side.

“A clearing!” he shouted. “That’s a lake--a big lake! Good enough,
Jerry! Head for that. Our hydroplanes will come in useful now!”

It needed but a second to put the nose of the airship in the right
direction, and in a few moments our heroes found themselves over a
large body of water in the midst of the vast and uninhabited forest.

“Some waves there,” murmured Bob, and indeed the lake was covered with
whitecaps from the wind, which was whipping their crests into spray.

“Still it’s better than landing on the trees,” replied Jerry. “Stand by
to let the hydroplanes down, boys!”

Nearer and nearer to the foam-crested water came the gallant craft. The
waves could be seen to be larger now, and even Jerry, staunch-hearted
as he was, felt a momentary sense of fear. He had never dropped his
machine on water that was as rough as this.

But there was no help for it. They could not keep on, and they must
stop somewhere for the night. So, after a glance about in order to
pick out the most sheltered spot, the tall lad yanked the lever of the
deflecting rudder over still farther.

“Here we go!” he cried. “Look out, boys! Shoot the hydroplanes out when
I give the word!”

Jerry turned off the power. The great propellers ceased revolving. The
airship was now diving rapidly downward under her own momentum.

“Ready!” suddenly shouted Jerry; and Bob and Ned pulled on the
levers, folding up the bicycle wheels, and shunting into place on the
toggle-jointed arms the hydroplanes that would keep the _Comet_ afloat.

The boys were hardly prepared for what followed, for as soon as they
struck the water they were at once tossed about by the violence of the
waves, the airship being so buoyant that she was like a chip on the
lake. Up and down on the long swells, from side to side, she was thrown
most violently.

“We can’t stand this!” yelled Ned. “We’ll tear the motor from the
bed-plates.”

“Start the water propeller,” called Jerry to Ned and Bob, “and I’ll
head for shore. Be ready to jump out when I give the word, and haul her
up with ropes. I’ll let down the wheels as soon as we get in shallow
water.”

A moment later the craft was a little steadier, for Jerry had headed
her up into the eye of the wind, and her bow instead of the side was
taking the breaking waves. Then she moved forward toward the distant
shore.

It was a hard fight, and one the boys never forgot. Time and again they
were in danger of being swamped. But the gallant _Comet_ struggled on,
proving herself almost as good a water navigator as she was in the air.
Then, as they neared the shore, Bob and Ned leaped out and reached the
bank, holding long ropes attached to the airship. Jerry dropped the
bicycle wheels and a little later the craft was pulled out on land.

Fortunately this was during a lull in the gale, or even then she might
have been dashed against the trees and wrecked. But before the blast
could resume its howling the boys and the professor had rolled their
airship up into a little opening amid the trees, and soon it was well
lashed to the sturdy trunks, some of the wing planes being folded over
to offer less surface to the gale.

“Now I guess we’re pretty snug,” remarked Bob, as they sat in the
closed cabin, and listened to the howl of the wind and the dash of the
rain without. “I’ll get supper, and then we can sit and talk. It was a
lucky thing I saw the lake.”

“Indeed it was,” agreed Jerry. “For doing that we’ll forgive you for
mentioning something to eat.”

“Sure, go ahead and get two suppers,” urged Ned. “I’m hungry.”

The professor was observed to be putting on a rain coat and a pair of
rubber boots.

“Where are you going?” asked Jerry.

“Out to look for my flying frog,” he explained.

The boys persuaded him to wait until morning, and soon Bob served
supper. Then, being tired with their day in the storm, they turned in,
being almost as comfortable as if they were at home, save only that
the _Comet_ trembled now and then, as the blast shook her.

It stormed so all of the following day that they did not venture up in
the air, but remained anchored. It began to clear during the afternoon,
and the professor went searching for the flying frog, but came back at
dusk without it.

“We’ll start in the morning,” decided Jerry that night, “and I hope
we’ll soon find what we’re looking for.”

It was about noon of the next day, when they had covered many miles
over the trackless forest, that Ned, who was in the bow, looking
eagerly through the binoculars, uttered a joyful cry.

“What is it?” demanded Jerry.

“I’m not sure--but I see a big patch of white down there. It may be the
wrecked airship we’re looking for. See, right by that clump of pines?”

He pointed and handed the glasses to Jerry.

“It’s either her or a big white stone,” murmured the tall lad.

“It can’t be a stone, for it flutters in the wind,” declared Ned.

“Don’t be too sure,” advised Bob. “We’ve been fooled before.”

“We’ll soon see what it is,” said Jerry. “We’ll go down there.”

Eagerly they watched as the white patch became bigger, for they were
nearing it rapidly. Now they could make out that it was some kind of
cloth, caught on the limbs of a tree, for it flapped back and forth
like a signal of distress.

“I--I guess we’ve found it at last,” murmured Jerry hopefully.

“If only the treasure is there,” added Ned in a low voice.

In a few seconds more they were over the object. Just ahead of them was
a little clearing where Jerry was going to land. As the _Comet_ passed
over the white object the boys looked down. Then came a joyful cry.

“That’s her!” yelled Ned. “It’s their airship!”

For what he and the others saw, on the ground under the white cloth,
was the bent and twisted remains of a big biplane, the engine, wings
and frame being tossed together in an almost inextricable mass. It was
the wreck of the _Silver Star_.

But was the airship treasure there?




CHAPTER XXX

THE AIRSHIP TREASURE--CONCLUSION


“That’s the same one!”

“The craft Brown and Black had.”

“The one they ordered us away from; I can tell by the peculiar wing
tips--at least from what’s left of ’em.”

Thus spoke Bob, Ned and Jerry in turn as they stood in the little
clearing where they had landed, and viewed the airship wreck that was
just on the edge of it.

“Jove, but she’s certainly smashed up!” went on the stout lad.

“The engine is nothing but junk,” said Ned.

“And look where the radiator is,” called Jerry. “Up in that beech
tree.” The cooling apparatus, torn loose from the rest of the machinery
had caught on a great limb and hung there.

“She must have crashed full-tilt into the trees,” was Ned’s opinion.
“That tore things loose, and then, if the engine was going, the
propellers threshed around and broke to pieces.”

“That last is true, anyhow,” observed Bob. “Here is a piece of one of
the blades,” and he held it up.

Professor Snodgrass was observed to be carefully scanning the ground
about the wreck.

“Are you looking for the treasure?” asked Jerry.

“Eh? What’s that? Treasure? No, my dear boy, I’m looking for the flying
frog. This seems a likely place to find one.”

“And we’ll have a look for the treasure,” said Ned, smiling at the
odd indifference of the professor. “It ought to be somewhere around
here--if Brown and Black, or whatever their names are--told the truth.”

After a glance at the wrecked craft the three boys began eagerly
looking for the loot from the bank.

“First we’d better make sure it isn’t still aboard,” suggested Jerry.
“They had two or three compartments on their craft where they could
carry the money.”

It needed but the most casual glance, however, to show that none of
the treasure was now aboard the _Silver Star_. In fact the several
compartments or boxes of which Jerry had spoken were smashed beyond
holding anything. In the corner of one, however, where it had become
jammed, was part of the same curious implement that had first aroused
their suspicions.

“That’s the drill they used to make a hole in the safe door, so they
could put in the explosive,” declared Bob.

“Yes, and we’d better take it along for evidence,” remarked Jerry, as
he carried the tool to their own machine.

“And there’s not so much as a gold-piece here,” gloomily went on Ned,
after a careful survey of the ground about the wreck. “I guess they’ve
got it hidden somewhere.”

“I don’t agree with you,” declared Jerry. “I think it was in the ship
after they were spilled out. How long it remained after that we can’t
say. But I’m going to have a look back over the air path which this
machine took in coming here.”

They were hopeful at first, but when, after a walk of several hours,
they had not even found a scrap of paper they began to get discouraged.
All about them was the vast, silent forest, in which it seemed that the
foot of man had not been set since the Indians had disappeared.

“It’s no use,” declared Bob, sitting down on a stone. “I wish I’d
brought along something to eat. I’m going back. You fellows can hunt,
if you want to.”

“Oh, come on, just a little farther,” urged Jerry. “Go one more mile,
and then, if we don’t find something we’ll go back, and try it again
to-morrow.”

“Well, just one mile more,” stipulated the fat lad wearily.

They trudged on, poking about in the dead leaves for a sight of gold or
paper. They had about covered the additional mile, and Bob was urging
his companions to return, when, as he impatiently kicked at a stone, he
uttered a cry.

“Hurt yourself?” asked Jerry, turning around.

Bob did not answer. He dug his fist down into the leaves and dirt, and
when he raised his hand his fingers clutched something that glittered
in the sun.

“Gold! Gold!” he cried. “A twenty dollar gold piece!”

“The airship treasure at last!” shouted Jerry.

Almost immediately after that Ned found three of the double eagles
scattered about, and Jerry picked up five more close together. Then
they hurried along the track, as indicated by the gold, and in a few
minutes they came upon a bundle of papers. The wrappings were torn
off, and then to the delighted gaze of the boys there were disclosed
big bundles of bills, and the other securities that had been stolen
from the bank vault. Jerry hastily counted them over.

“There’s two hundred and six thousand dollars here,” he announced.

“That’s right,” confirmed Ned. “There was four thousand in gold taken.
Let’s see if we can’t pick up some more.”

They hurried back to the place where they had first found the
glittering coins, and by dint of searching in the leaves managed to
pick up one hundred and ten of the coins--twenty-two hundred dollars.
Then, as it was getting late, and they wanted to make secure the great
treasure they had found, they went back to their craft.

As they came in view of it they saw Professor Snodgrass capering about
like a boy.

“Hurrah! Hurrah!” he shouted at the sight of them. “I’ve found it!”

“Maybe he found the rest of the gold,” suggested Ned.

“We’ve got most of the treasure!” yelled Bob.

“And I’ve got my treasure--my prize--the flying frog!” exclaimed the
scientist. “I just caught it! Oh, but I am the lucky man! Congratulate
me, boys!”

“Look here!” called Jerry, showing the big bundle of notes.

“Ah, yes, very good, very good,” spoke the professor calmly, “but look
at this,” and, trembling with eagerness, he opened a specimen box and
showed the boys a tiny, trembling green frog. “I had rather have this
than the airship treasure,” said the professor. “You ought to see it
change color.”

He agreed with the boys that it was useless to spend any more time
hunting for the rest of the gold. It had evidently been scattered when
the airship turned over, spilling out the other valuables, just before
crashing into the trees.

“The bank will be glad enough to get that back, and with the capture of
the robbers, to pay you the reward,” said the professor.

The airship treasure was carefully put aboard the _Comet_ and then,
rising high in the air, the nose of the craft was pointed toward the
east, and she began her swift flight again over the pathless forest.

“Well, something was doing on this trip, almost all the while,”
remarked Ned, a day or so later when they were nearing Harmolet.

“Yes, it was one of the most exciting ones we’ve had,” agreed Jerry.

But it was not the last voyage of our heroes, for they were destined
for other adventures, which will be related in the next volume, to be
entitled, “The Motor Boys After a Fortune; Or The Hut on Snake Island.”

“I’d like to know the secret of the cloth on the statue and how Noddy’s
and Bill’s names came in the torch,” said Bob.

They did learn a little later, at the trial of the robbers. It became
necessary to have evidence about the queer bicycle tires, and Noddy,
being a witness, explained how he had purchased a set exactly like
those on the _Silver Star_ from a supply left by Brown and Black.

It developed at the trial that Noddy had proposed to Bill the daring
scheme of sailing around the head of the statue in the park, and
lifting off a loose portion of the torch as a trophy. Noddy thought it
would show his skill as an aviator, and that the people of Harmolet
would be much surprised when they found the piece of bronze gone. It
was this scheme he was proposing to his crony, when Jerry overheard
him. Noddy had been in Harmolet before, and knew about the statue.

But Noddy had a slight accident in his machine after leaving the Colton
grounds, and so could not start to circle the statue until after dark.
Then the park was deserted and no one saw him. He had his trouble for
his pains, and found it impossible to take away a piece of the bronze.
He and Bill went too close, and tore one of their wing tips. Noddy did
manage to toss his name and Bill’s into the hollow torch, a foolish and
risky trick.

They escaped police detection, which Bill was afraid of, but gained
none of the notoriety for which Noddy thirsted. Then the two went off
on an auto trip that lasted until they were summoned to court.

“It’s no wonder though, after what happened, and remembering Noddy’s
talk, that we suspected them for a time,” said Jerry; and his chums
agreed with him.

The trial of the two robbers, who went under various names, was short
and summary. They had recovered from their accident when taken to
court. The evidence against them, given by the boys, was so conclusive,
that they did not offer a defense, and were quickly convicted.

It developed that the day they were in the little country town, where
the boys first saw them, they were planning the robbery, and the
mention of Harmolet so startled them that they betrayed a nervousness
that drew the attention of our friends to them.

The boys had found nearly all the gold, for what was missing had been
spent by the thieves. The evil doers were sent to prison for long terms.

Of course our heroes received the ten thousand dollars reward, and the
thanks of the bank officials. The prize money was divided among them,
Professor Snodgrass getting his share. Nor did the boys forget the
friendly policeman, Mr. Thompson, but for whose aid they might not have
gotten on the trail of the thieves.

Professor Snodgrass returned to the museum, the proud possessor of the
flying frog, as well as many other specimens gathered on the trip.
As for the boys, they had several more trips in the _Comet_ and then
prepared to return to school in the fall. Anxiously then, they awaited
the next summer, when they planned to do great things.

And now, for the time being we will say good-bye to the motor boys,
trusting to meet them soon again.


                                THE END




THE MOTOR BOYS SERIES

By _Clarence Young_

[Illustration]

_12mo. illustrated_

_Price per volume, 50 cents._

_Postage, extra, 10 cents._


_Bright up-to-date stories, full of information as well as of
adventure. Read the first volume and you will want all the others
written by Mr. Young._

  1. THE MOTOR BOYS
     _or Chums through Thick and Thin_

  2. THE MOTOR BOYS OVERLAND
     _or A Long Trip for Fun and Fortune_

  3. THE MOTOR BOYS IN MEXICO
     _or The Secret of the Buried City_

  4. THE MOTOR BOYS ACROSS THE PLAINS
     _or The Hermit of Lost Lake_

  5. THE MOTOR BOYS AFLOAT
     _or The Cruise of the Dartaway_

  6. THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE ATLANTIC
     _or The Mystery of the Lighthouse_

  7. THE MOTOR BOYS IN STRANGE WATERS
     _or Lost in a Floating Forest_

  8. THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE PACIFIC
     _or The Young Derelict Hunters_

  9. THE MOTOR BOYS IN THE CLOUDS
     _or A Trip for Fame and Fortune_

 10. THE MOTOR BOYS OVER THE ROCKIES
     _or A Mystery of the Air_

 11. THE MOTOR BOYS OVER THE OCEAN
     _or A Marvelous Rescue in Mid-Air_

 12. THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE WING
     _or Seeking the Airship Treasure_

  CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers      New York




THE BOMBA BOOKS

By ROY ROCKWOOD

_12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. With colored jacket._

[Illustration]

_Price 50 cents per volume._

_Postage 10 cents additional._


_Bomba lived far back in the jungles of the Amazon with a half-demented
naturalist who told the lad nothing of his past. The jungle boy was a
lover of birds, and hunted animals with a bow and arrow and his trusty
machete. He had a primitive education in some things, and his daring
adventures will be followed with breathless interest by thousands._

  1. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY
     _or The Old Naturalist’s Secret_

  2. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY AT THE MOVING MOUNTAIN
     _or The Mystery of the Caves of Fire_

  3. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY AT THE GIANT CATARACT
     _or Chief Nasconora and His Captives_

  4. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY ON JAGUAR ISLAND
     _or Adrift on the River of Mystery_

  5. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY IN THE ABANDONED CITY
     _or A Treasure Ten Thousand Years Old_

  6. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY ON TERROR TRAIL
     _or The Mysterious Men from the Sky_

  7. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY IN THE SWAMP OF DEATH
     _or The Sacred Alligators of Abarago_

  8. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY AMONG THE SLAVES
     _or Daring Adventures in the Valley of Skulls_

  _Send for Our Free Illustrated Catalogue._


  CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers      New York




THE JEWEL SERIES

BY AMES THOMPSON

_12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in colors_

_=Price per volume, 65 cents=_

[Illustration]


_A series of stories brimming with hardy adventure, vivid and accurate
in detail, and with a good foundation of probability. They take the
reader realistically to the scene of action. Besides being lively and
full of real situations, they are written in a straight-forward way
very attractive to boy readers._


1. THE ADVENTURE BOYS AND THE VALLEY OF DIAMONDS

Malcolm Edwards and his son Ralph are adventurers with ample means for
following up their interest in jewel clues. In this book they form a
party of five, including Jimmy Stone and Bret Hartson, boys of Ralph’s
age, and a shrewd level-headed sailor named Stanley Greene. They find a
valley of diamonds in the heart of Africa.


2. THE ADVENTURE BOYS AND THE RIVER OF EMERALDS

The five adventurers, staying at a hotel in San Francisco, find that
Pedro the elevator man has an interesting story of a hidden “river of
emeralds” in Peru, to tell. With him as guide, they set out to find it,
escape various traps set for them by jealous Peruvians, and are much
amused by Pedro all through the experience.


3. THE ADVENTURE BOYS AND THE LAGOON OF PEARLS

This time the group starts out on a cruise simply for pleasure, but
their adventuresome spirits lead them into the thick of things on a
South Sea cannibal island.


  _Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue_


  CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, PUBLISHERS      New York




THE WEBSTER SERIES

By FRANK V. WEBSTER

[Illustration]


Mr. Webster’s style is very much like that of the boys’ favorite
author, the late lamented Horatio Alger, Jr., but his tales are
thoroughly up-to-date.

_Cloth. 12mo. Over 200 pages each. Illustrated. Stamped in various
colors._

_Price per volume, 50 cents._

_Postage 10 cents additional._


  Only a Farm Boy
  _or Dan Hardy’s Rise in Life_

  The Boy from the Ranch
  _or Roy Bradner’s City Experiences_

  The Young Treasure Hunter
  _or Fred Stanley’s Trip to Alaska_

  The Boy Pilot of the Lakes
  _or Nat Morton’s Perils_

  Tom the Telephone Boy
  _or The Mystery of a Message_

  Bob the Castaway
  _or The Wreck of the Eagle_

  The Newsboy Partners
  _or Who Was Dick Box?_

  Two Boy Gold Miners
  _or Lost in the Mountains_

  The Young Firemen of Lakeville
  _or Herbert Dare’s Pluck_

  The Boys of Bellwood School
  _or Frank Jordan’s Triumph_

  Jack the Runaway
  _or On the Road with a Circus_

  Bob Chester’s Grit
  _or From Ranch to Riches_

  Airship Andy
  _or The Luck of a Brave Boy_

  High School Rivals
  _or Fred Markham’s Struggles_

  Darry the Life Saver
  _or The Heroes of the Coast_

  Dick the Bank Boy
  _or A Missing Fortune_

  Ben Hardy’s Flying Machine
  _or Making a Record for Himself_

  Harry Watson’s High School Days
  _or The Rivals of Rivertown_

  Comrades of the Saddle
  _or The Young Rough Riders of the Plains_

  Tom Taylor at West Point
  _or The Old Army Officer’s Secret_

  The Boy Scouts of Lennox
  _or Hiking Over Big Bear Mountain_

  The Boys of the Wireless
  _or a Stirring Rescue from the Deep_

  Cowboy Dave
  _or The Round-up at Rolling River_

  Jack of the Pony Express
  _or The Young Rider of the Mountain Trail_

  The Boys of the Battleship
  _or For the Honor of Uncle Sam_


  CUPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers      NEW YORK




THE BOY RANCHERS SERIES

By WILLARD F. BAKER

_12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors_

[Illustration]

_Price 50 cents per volume._

_Postage 10 cents additional._


_Stories of the great west, with cattle ranches as a setting, related
in such a style as to captivate the hearts of all boys._


  1. THE BOY RANCHERS
     _or Solving the Mystery at Diamond X_

Two eastern boys visit their cousin. They become involved in an
exciting mystery.


  2. THE BOY RANCHERS IN CAMP
     _or the Water Fight at Diamond X_

Returning for a visit, the two eastern lads learn, with delight, that
they are to become boy ranchers.


  3. THE BOY RANCHERS ON THE TRAIL
     _or The Diamond X After Cattle Rustlers_

Our boy heroes take the trail after Del Pinzo and his outlaws.


  4. THE BOY RANCHERS AMONG THE INDIANS
     _or Trailing the Yaquis_

Rosemary and Floyd are captured by the Yaqui Indians but the boy
ranchers trailed them into the mountains and effected the rescue.


  5. THE BOY RANCHERS AT SPUR CREEK
     _or Fighting the Sheep Herders_

Dangerous struggle against desperadoes for land rights brings out
heroic adventures.


  6. THE BOY RANCHERS IN THE DESERT
     _or Diamond X and the Lost Mine_

One night a strange old miner almost dead from hunger and hardship
arrived at the bunk house. The boys cared for him and he told them of
the lost desert mine.


  7. THE BOY RANCHERS ON ROARING RIVER
     _or Diamond X and the Chinese Smugglers_

The boy ranchers help capture Delton’s gang who were engaged in
smuggling Chinese across the border.


  8. THE BOY RANCHERS IN DEATH VALLEY
     _or Diamond X and the Poison Mystery_

The Boy Ranchers track Mysterious Death into his cave.


_Send for Our Free Illustrated Catalogue._


  CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers      New York




 Transcriber’s Notes:

 --Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_); text in
   bold by “equal” signs (=bold=).

 --Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected, except
   as noted below.

 --Archaic and variable spelling is preserved.

 --Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.

 --Inconsistencies in formatting and punctuation of individual
   advertisements have been retained.

 --Table of Contents printer error in chapter title (Chapter XXX) has
   been corrected to match the text.






End of Project Gutenberg's The Motor Boys on the Wing, by Clarence Young