CHAPTER V. Jimmie Finds a Spy.
"But I'm hungry!" protested Jimmie. "I'm nearly starved!"
"Come to think of it, I guess you have a right to feel a little gaunt and underfed," admitted Ned. "We ought to get down to Mr. Bosworth's office as quickly as we can, though. He needs us."
"If you'll let me inveigle a little sustenance under my surcingle," Jimmy replied, "I'll go with you as far as you like, but right now I'm so thin that I can't tell whether this pain is a backache or a stomach ache. I'm hungry, I tell you!"
"What do you want to eat, Jimmie?" queried Harry. "Say the word and I'll get it for you if I can."
"Not very much," The Wolf stated with twinkling eyes, "just a couple orders of ham and eggs, five or six cups of coffee, some potatoes, some cauliflower in cream, a little roast lamb, some turkey and cranberry sauce, a side order of macaroni, some stewed corn, some lettuce with dressing, an order of celery, some Parker House rolls and any other little odds and ends that may be lying around loose. I guess if I could get a little lunch like that I'd be good for a couple of hours or until dinner is ready. You know, I'm hungry!"
"Jimmie, you always were hungry!" declared Ned, joining in the general laugh which greeted Jimmie's modest demands. "If it were not for you and your appetite I suppose we'd forget to eat."
"Maybe so," the smaller lad admitted, "but if that's the case there's something wrong with you. You better go see a doctor."
"What doctor would you suggest that we visit?"
"Go to see my old-time favorite, Dr. Cook!" shouted Jimmie. "Now I'm off for a restaurant. Who's with me?"
A canvass of the group showed that all felt the need of lunch and it was determined to visit a restaurant on the way to Mr. Bosworth's office. In a short time the boys were seated in a nearby establishment supplying their needs. Darkness had now fallen.
"What did Mr. Bosworth say he wanted, Ned?" asked Harry while the lads accompanied by Mr. Nobles were waiting for their orders to be filled. "Is it something more referring to the Panama plans?"
"Hush!" warned Ned. "Not so loud in here, please."
"Excuse me, Ned, I forgot this was a public place."
"Yes," went on Ned, nodding his acknowledgment to Harry. "He said that some new developments have been discovered and he wants us to make haste. He asked how soon we can be ready to go."
"What did you tell him? Right away, I hope."
"I think you heard me say we'd do the best possible," replied Ned. "Much depends on the delivery of that engine, Harry, for I'm convinced from what I've read of the European conflict and from what I have been told of police regulations on the Continent that we will probably have to make some quick jumps in order to catch the fellow. It does not seem probable that we can apprehend the man before he gets across the Atlantic," the boy finished with a sigh.
"That engine will be delivered tomorrow morning!" announced Harry. "When our Superintendent promises delivery on anything you may be sure that it will be there at the appointed time."
"Good!" was Ned's satisfied comment. "There's a lot of work ahead of us if my understanding of the matter is at all correct, and we ought to feel extremely thankful that a good start is assured."
"What's that about a bad beginning making a good ending?" queried Jimmie, rousing himself from a study of the menu.
"You mean to say 'There's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the saucer,'" purposely misquoted Jack, grinning at the boy.
"There's many an egg has quit playing the shell game, too!" retorted Jimmie pleasantly. "Be quiet, boys, here comes the waiter!" he added, unfolding his napkin. "I'm glad to see I have one friend!"
"Speaking of slips," remarked Mr. Nobles, "just take a look at the hungry face of that fellow looking in at the window. He's evidently missed connections with a good square meal for several days!"
"I've been looking at him for this long time," declared the red-headed Wolf. "You thought I was studying this menu to order some more steaks and things, but I've been looking at him. He's been there ever since we sat down and he's been eyeing us all the while!"
"What does he look like?" asked Ned, who sat with his back toward the window. "I don't want to turn unless it's necessary."
"He's a slight built, rather dark, smooth shaven fellow with a cast in his left eye and a scar at the corner of the right one. Looks like a tough character wearing good clothes as if unaccustomed to them. I should say he's a 'Panhandler' by profession," replied Jimmie.
"Maybe he thinks he's going to beg a meal from us as we go out of this place," suggested Harry. "Lots of them try that."
"Forget him, here are the steaks!" cried Jimmie.
During the progress of the meal conversation turned upon ordinary subjects remote from the project in hand. None of the boys cared to discuss the matter in a public place and by mutual consent the talk drifted to other topics. Shortly they prepared to proceed to Mr. Bosworth's office, where the lawyer was awaiting their coming.
As the boys left the restaurant they looked about for the man who had been seen at the window, but he was nowhere in sight.
Not long after this they were seated in Mr. Bosworth's office discussing with that gentleman the details of their proposed journey. It appeared that their experience on other trips would enable them to reduce their baggage and other impedimenta to a minimum.
"Now, boys," proceeded Mr. Bosworth after reviewing the points already known, "we are informed by the Chief that the man you are after left Colon by means of a launch. It appears that he must have trans-shipped to a United Fruit Company's steamer somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico, for his hat and coat were discovered in the abandoned launch.
"At first it was believed he had accidentally fallen overboard. Later a drunken deckhand from the fruit steamer, after the manner of sailors, was enjoying himself in Mobile. He confided to one of the Secret Service agents there, who (in the guise of a dock laborer) was on another mission, that his vessel had picked up a man from a launch east of Colon. This party had later been transferred while in the Gulf, he said, to a vessel bound for some European port with a cargo of cotton from Galveston."
"Then he's well on his way by this time!" exclaimed Ned with a note of regret. "We'll have to hurry to catch him!"
"Yes," returned Mr. Bosworth, "but remember that the cotton steamer is a tramp vessel. Probably her bottom is covered with barnacles and she won't be able to make her usual speed, which at best is slow. You ought to beat him across by taking one of the faster vessels from this port. I've been looking up the sailings somewhat."
"If the trial of the new engine proves to be half what we expect, as we have every reason to believe," Ned remarked, "we ought to be able to have the Grey Eagle dismantled and ready for shipment in two days. That being the case, we could then sail next——"
Loud voices from the outer office attracted the attention of the group. Jimmie's angry tones were heard.
"What do you want here?" the lads heard him ask someone.
A muffled reply from the other was not intelligible.
"You clear out of this or you'll wish you had!" retorted Jimmie. "I think you're a fake, that's what I think!"
"What's the matter, Jimmie?" called Ned, rising.
With flashing eyes the younger lad entered the room. He had left without attracting the attention of the others.
"Our friend from the restaurant window was out in the corridor with a wiping cloth," replied Jimmie. "My dream book told me that someone was doing a little eavesdropping and I slipped from this room into the outer one. I stood by the door listening until I heard someone there. It was the same fellow and he had his ear glued to the crack. When I opened the door he made a bluff at wiping off the marble wainscoting, but he wasn't quick enough! I think he's a spy!"
Quick glances of apprehension were exchanged by the members of the little group. They were recalling the numerous incidents of the day, not forgetting the attempt to burn their hangar.
"What do you think of that?" gasped Harry in amazement.
"I know what I think!" snapped Jimmie. "I think we're up against an organized gang! Just one fellow didn't go and steal those plans on an independent footing. Somehow there's either a leak in the Service or else the gang is posted to watch us to prevent our taking a hand in the matter. They're not overlooking many bets!"
"Jimmie, I think you're more than half right!" stated Ned. "But I wish you'd omit the slang just a little more. What's to be done?"
"About the slang?" queried Jimmie.
"No, about the opposition to our trip which seems to have developed," replied Ned. "I'm leaving the slang for you to conquer!"
"What do you suggest, Mr. Bosworth?" asked Harry.
"If I remember correctly, you Boy Scouts have a watchword," was the lawyer's reply. "What is it?"
"Our motto is 'Be Prepared,'" answered Harry.
"And I further suggest that you boys make haste."
"Thank you," acknowledged the lad. "Now what do you say, boys, are we ready to return? We ought to get a little sleep."
"Look around and see that all fire is out," warned Jimmie.
"Thank you, Jimmie!" Mr. Bosworth exclaimed. "That remark reminds me that I nearly overlooked giving you these pictures of the alleged thief. They arrived only today. The chap has used so many names that his last one is not worth remembering. This is his face!"
"With that sharp nose and chopped-off chin, he looks like a rat!" commented Jimmie as the boys inspected the pictures of the alleged thief.
All the boys at once observed the striking resemblance.
Good-byes were soon said and the boys departed. Long after their departure Mr. Bosworth sat with Mr. Nobles discussing the venture, the issues at stake and their confidence in the lads.
Little time was lost by the four in making their way to the hangar, where they found the watchman had repaired the damaged fence and had put everything to rights so far as possible. The Grey Eagle rested lightly in its position under the shelter, as if anxious for flight.
Early the following morning the lads were astir. Breakfast was dispatched quickly and all took up the tasks of the previous day which had been interrupted by the events already related.
Soon a motor truck approached the enclosure, its driver sounding his Klaxon for attention. Admitted by the watchman he drove to a position in front of the hangar, adjusted a pair of skids and helped unload his burden. Ned signed a receipt and the driver then made haste to depart. Just as the truck was leaving the grounds Jimmie appeared.
"Upon my honor as an expert," he cried, "that driver is our hungry spy of last night! How does it come he's out here?"
"That's strange!" mused Harry. "Where did the factory get him?"
"I don't know," admitted Jimmie, "but he's there all right!"
"The fellow's gone now," Harry exclaimed impatiently. "Let's get a little gasoline and turn the engine over. I'm getting anxious."
"Wait a bit," interrupted Ned. "Wouldn't it be a good idea to inspect the machine first? Maybe they forgot to put in the piston rings or something. Hurry-up jobs are sometimes neglected a little."
"Not in our shop!" boasted Harry. "This engine's all right!"
"Better look it over, anyway, Harry," suggested Jimmie. "Here's a wrench. It's easy to remove the cylinder heads and crank case cover."
Shortly a startled cry from Harry drew the boys to his side.
"Look, fellows," he shouted. "Look what's in here!"
"Candles!" scorned Jimmie. "Two candles in the crank case!"
"Those are not candles!" gasped Jack. "Go easy there!"
CHAPTER VI. A Murderous Act.
"Guess you're right," admitted Jimmie, picking up one of the objects. "But they're about the size of candles, though. I see now this is wrapped in heavy oiled paper. Besides, there isn't any wick. Why, it bends like a gum drop!" he exclaimed, manipulating the object.
"For pity's sake, Jimmie, let that thing down easy! Do you want us all to be blown to bits? That stuff is dynamite!"
"Huh! Dynamite!" scorned Jimmie. "Why, you're talking like a fish! How'd dynamite get in there? That just came from the factory!"
"Sure thing," acquiesced Jack. "But remember who drove the truck to this place with the engine on it! The hungry spy was on the job!"
"Well, Great Frozen Hot Boxes!" ejaculated Jimmie gingerly, holding the object at arm's length. "If I ever catch him!"
"Lay it down gently. Don't let it drop!" advised Harry.
"It looks innocent enough—just like a big bunch of vaseline wrapped in paper," commented Jimmie, depositing his burden on the ground.
"But for all that, the engine, and perhaps we boys, would have been blown to bits if we had started the machine with those things in the crank case!" advised Ned, approaching the spot.
"We're lucky!" Harry breathed. "How shall we get rid of it?"
"Let's drown it!" suggested Jack. "That's the best way!"
"It won't drown! They use it to blast under water!"
"Then we'd better explode it. Let's take it down to the beach, put it on that old piece of wreckage and shoot at it."
With the prospect of a little target practice this suggestion was accepted by all. No time was lost in securing automatics and ammunition. The boys were shortly at the spot indicated.
"Now, boys, I'll tell you what we'll do," spoke up Jimmie. "We'll pretend that we have caught the traitor and he's been sentenced to be shot at sunrise. These two sticks of dynamite will be the spy and we the firing squad. This is the wall. Are you ready?"
"Bloodthirsty as ever, I see!" laughed Ned as Jimmie became enthusiastic over the game. "Always looking for trouble!"
"We ought to put a black mask on the Wolf," added Jack, "and give him first shot. Executioners in the olden days wore black masks!"
"I'm no train robber!" protested Jimmie indignantly. "Keep the masks for the other fellows. I'll stand up and play fair!"
"But you'll oblige us by taking the first shot, won't you?"
"Thanks!" dryly responded the lad, wrinkling his freckled nose.
"Firing squad, attention!" sung out Jack in an authoritative tone. "'Tenshun! Ready! Aim! Fire!"
At the command Jimmie raised his automatic directed toward the target. With the word "Fire" he rapidly touched the trigger, sending all eight shots hurtling toward the dynamite.
Mingled with the reverberations of his shots a loud, sharp detonation from the wreckage told the boys that Jimmie's aim had been true. Pieces of timber thrown high in the air by the explosion came tumbling to the beach in confusion. Astonished, the boys viewed the result.
"Just imagine where we would have been with that stuff in the crank case!" whispered Jimmie in an awestruck tone.
"Let's get back to work and get out of this place!" suggested Jack. "This makes me nervous! I want to get busy!"
Accordingly the boys hastened back to the hangar to still the alarm of the watchman and proceed with the work in hand.
Long before dinner time the engine had been properly located, tried out and pronounced fit. The boys were jubilant at the result.
"Now we're ready to start just as soon as we pack our kit!" announced Ned. "Boys, let's make things hum around here!"
"Let's telephone Mr. Bosworth that the engine's running great and ask him to arrange for our passage," suggested Harry.
"Good idea, Harry; get him on the wire for me, will you?"
Mr. Bosworth was pleased at the announcement. Arrangements had been made, he said, to secure passage for them on a swift vessel leaving New York two days later. They would thus have ample time for trials and adjustments of the engine before dismantling the "Grey Eagle."
Accordingly the boys worked with a vim that afternoon.
"I tell you what," Ned spoke up as the boys were eating supper at the close of a busy day, "we have been very fortunate so far in avoiding serious trouble. I hope we get away all right!"
"Oh, we're the regular little side-steppers!" gleefully assented Jimmie. "I wish we knew who the guys are who seem to be trying to put us out of business. What is that saying, 'Know about it ahead of time and you've got four arms'?"
"'Forewarned is forearmed,' Jimmie," corrected Jack. "You seem to think only of boxing gloves and other things like that!"
"If I could get the chap that put that dynamite in the engine, tried to burn the little old 'Grey Eagle' and has been spying on us, he'd think I had brass knuckles on!" stoutly maintained the lad.
"He deserves it, all right!" agreed Jack. "But how will you manage when you get across the water?" he continued. "Those fellows over there don't understand English and you can't understand French!"
"Why, I'll point to my mouth and rub my belt buckle! Then they'll know I'm hungry!" was Jimmie's reply. "That goes anywhere!"
A general laugh went around the group at this solution of linguistic difficulties. Jimmie's appetite was a subject of general knowledge and many a joke did the boys have at his expense.
"What will our first move be, Ned?" inquired Harry.
"Pass the potatoes!" put in Jimmie.
"After we land," replied Ned, ignoring the interruption, "we'll have to discover whether this cotton steamer has arrived. If she has not, we'll wait until we learn what port she makes. Mr. Bosworth stated that she was the "Nymph" and cleared from Galveston for Le Havre. I figure that we ought to beat her across by at least two days."
"But cotton is contraband, isn't it?" asked Jack.
"I believe it is," admitted Ned. "If discovered, she may be seized and the chase lead us to another place. We must take a chance."
"Why should cotton be contraband?" demanded Jimmie. "They can't use cotton to fight with! Who'd shoot a cotton bullet?"
"You forget, Jimmie, they shoot the bullets with the cotton!"
"Go on, now, you're trying to complete my education!"
"Fact," asserted Ned. "You see, cotton is used largely in manufacturing high explosives. If all the cotton supply were exhausted there could be no powder or other such explosive made, I understand!"
"What else do they use for making powder?"
"Well, they use a lot of nitrogen and so on. I don't know all the ingredients. Each country has a formula of its own."
"Believe me," announced Jimmie forcefully, "when I get back I'm going to read up on that subject in the encyclopedia!"
"When we get back with this traitor," announced Harry, "we'll all have money enough from the reward so we can go through college!"
"Hurray! When we get back! Shall we decide which college we'll honor, or shall we leave that for later consideration?"
"Better wait," advised Ned. "No knowing what might happen!"
How true his words were to prove! Could the boys have anticipated the many incidents that were to occur and the dangers which confronted them, perhaps their hearts would not have been so light. However, care and gloomy forebodings had no place in their healthy young minds and they discussed the future only with thoughts of success.
Three days later our four friends were standing in the bows of the Compagnie Generale Transatlantique's steamer "Havre" watching with interest the flying fish dart from the curling waves at the vessel's prow. Already they had become familiar with the vessel, had visited every place from stem to stern and had been favored by all the crew.
Although the rules of navigation forbid passengers occupying the bridge while a vessel is under way, the captain had laughingly promised to give the lads lessons in navigation. To avoid any complications he had asked them to sign articles which would make them members of the crew and thus permit them on the bridge under his directions.
Accordingly the lads had signed the papers, considering the matter a huge joke, and had speculated on various ways of spending the sum of one dollar each, which had been stipulated as the wage they were to receive for their services as assistant stewards.
"We'll be rich by the time we get back!" Jimmie had declared.
Below decks were stowed the boxes containing their precious "Grey Eagle" and other belongings. At the dock in New York the lads had checked each box as it went on board, noting the number carefully and comparing it with the list they had previously prepared.
Eagerly now they rehearsed every step of unpacking and assembling the airship. A special duty was assigned to each lad so that no time need be lost when they were once ashore in France. Between their excitement over the proposed task, the wonders of the sea and the prospects of the trip before them the lads were busy during all their hours.
As the Lizard Light was passed on their port and the vessel headed to pass Cherbourg Light to starboard the boys felt that their journey was nearing its end. Imagine their surprise to receive a summons to the captain's cabin which the steward delivered.
Wonderingly the boys obeyed the call, speculating on the cause.
In answer to their ring an under steward received them and admitted them to the captain's reception room. They had not long to wait before the captain appeared, holding in his hand a paper which the boys at once recognized as a wireless telegraph blank.
The serious look on the captain's face filled the lads with apprehension. Wonderingly they conjectured what might be in store.
"Gentlemen," began the captain, "you probably know that I am a subject of the country of France and that war has been declared between that country and Germany?" He glanced from one to another.
"Yes, Captain," admitted Ned, acting as spokesman, "we understand that such is the case and we are very sorry, indeed!"
"It pains me," continued the captain after a pause, "to state that I have information here," indicating the wireless message, "which, if true, makes the situation a very delicate one for you!"
Puzzled, the boys waited anxiously for the captain to continue.
"This message" the captain at length proceeded, "comes from some private individual and, of course, cannot be regarded by me as official. It states, however, that you four young men are German spies. While I should dislike very much to do anything of the sort, it will be my duty to detain you until you can assure me that this message is the result of a mistake. I hope you will be able to do so!"
"That's our friend 'Hungry' again!" declared Jimmie. "Oh, the brass knuckles for 'Hungry' when I lay my eyes on him!"
Wonderingly the captain listened to Jimmie's outburst and then turned to Ned for explanation. It was forthcoming without delay, the boys considering it better to be absolutely frank with their friend. All the important features of their connection with the case were laid before the captain, together with their passports and other means of identification. As a final proof of their innocence of the charge, Ned suggested that the captain send an inquiry by wireless to Mr. Bosworth.
This the captain was not willing to do, declaring that he was satisfied the warning he had received was untrue.
"It seems," he said, "that this party is determined to cause you trouble and in my estimation there is but one thing you can do to protect yourselves against him while you are here."
"What is that?" asked Ned eagerly.
"Enlist in the aviation corps of the French army!"
CHAPTER VII. Greeted With Bullets.
"Thank you, Captain," Ned replied after a short pause. "You have certainly treated us royally and we appreciate it. We believe you mean well, but it is a matter of importance and we'd like a little time in which to consider the subject. May we think it over?"
"Certainly!" replied the captain heartily. "You are right! Consider it well and remember that I shall help you if I can!"
"We are now citizens of the United States!" spoke up Harry. "We wouldn't want to complicate international matters at all."
"True!" rejoined the captain, "but remember that you have a bold and desperate man to deal with. Judging him by what I now know I believe he will not stop at trifles. Remember that if you are enlisted in the French army you have the protection of that nation."
"While I don't want to underrate the ability of your army," put in Jack, "I feel that this fellow is a man of ability and cunning and that he would attempt harm to us just the same, enlisted or not."
"But think also of the glory that would be yours if you assist my country in her time of need. You would also be rewarded!"
"We'll think of that, too," agreed Ned. "But we must remember that we are citizens of the United States and that we do not wish to do anything that will draw our country into the war!"
"I shall say no more!" declared the captain. "You have several hours before we arrive at Havre. After you have reached a decision, please inform me and be assured of my desire to assist you."
With protestations of their gratitude the boys left the captain's quarters and sought the seclusion of their own room. There a conference was at once held to consider the weighty subject which had just been presented. All felt that the anticipated step was one of great moment and that more than their own personal safety or inclination was involved. After reviewing the facts now known, Ned said:
"Boys, you are the ones to decide this matter. What do you think? Shall we do as the captain suggests or remain neutral?"
"There isn't any such thing as remaining neutral!" declared Jimmie. "If there is a fight started a fellow just naturally sides with one or the other and that's all there is to it!"
"Sure," spoke up Jack, "but he can keep out of trouble, can't he? He don't have to mix in where he's not wanted!"
"If we take sides with France we'll have to do scouting and other work for that country against Germany, won't we?" asked Harry.
"Why, certainly!" stated Jimmie with some impatience. "We'll have to go up and find out where the Germans are located. Then we'll come back and tell our friends where they are and they'll drop a nice little bomb over there and scatter Dutchmen all over the landscape!"
"Well, the Germans never did anything to us, did they?"
"They have never harmed us at any rate!" put in Jack. "For one, I believe we'd better go ahead as we are and leave the scrap to the other fellows! Our business is to try to intercept this thief and to keep him, if possible, from getting the United States into trouble. We're here on a mission of peace only!"
"And I say we'd better secure peace even if we have to start a scrap to get it!" declared Jimmie seriously.
A general laugh greeted this announcement. Jimmie's desire for peace even at the expense of a fight was well known. All the boys knew well his sense of fair play as well as his readiness to settle arguments by forcible means. Not for nothing was his hair red.
"Let's take a ballot," suggested Ned. "Of course, there are but four of us, so there may be a deadlock."
"Not much chance of a deadlock with four votes cast one way!" quickly put in Harry. "I know how you and Jack and The Wolf stand!"
Laughingly Ned handed a slip of paper to each boy.
"Each of you put his sentiments on the paper and drop the slip into this hat," he directed. "Jimmie will count the vote."
Only a few moments were required for the boys to prepare their ballots. A hat was then passed and into it the slips were dropped.
Jimmie at once thrust in a hand and drew forth a folded ballot.
"Number one!" he announced. "Hear ye! Hear ye! The solemn work of Ned Nestor, Chief of the Wolf Pack!"
"Never mind the comedy, Jimmie! What does he say?"
"He says to remain neutral, whatever that is!" replied Jimmie. "Then this next fellow," he continued, reaching for another ballot, "has made a picture of a potato vine as his sentiments. That's surely some fine artist! That picture makes me hungry!"
"That's mine!" declared Jack. "That's an olive branch!"
"Thanks!" dryly responded Jimmie, reaching for another ballot. "This one," he went on, "has made a picture of the Stars and Stripes!"
"I'll take that!" cried Harry. "Old Glory Forever!"
"Noble sentiments for a Black Bear!" was Jimmie's comment. "Now this last fellow has made a picture of a Hawk or a Falcon or an Owl. I can't tell exactly which it is intended to represent!"
"That's your ballot, let's see it!" cried Jack, reaching for the paper. "I don't believe you're much of an artist!"
A friendly argument resulted in which it was left as a matter of doubt whether Jimmie had intended to draw a picture of the Dove of Peace or the American Eagle. Much good-natured chaffing resulted, but it was decided that either bird would serve as a vote for neutrality.
"Now, Ned, it's up to you to inform the captain that we are much obliged for his kindness, but that we'll stick to the U. S. A.!"
"All right, here goes! Come along with me, boys."
Although somewhat disappointed, the captain received the announcement of the boys' decision pleasantly and took occasion to compliment them on their loyalty to country and principles, declaring at the same time that he would be glad to aid them in any way possible.
With lighter hearts now that their decision had been made, the boys repaired to the deck to watch the approach of the coast of France. Not long afterward they were gazing at the scenes in the harbor of Havre and were greatly interested in noting the differences between the customs of that place and those of New York.
Due to the friendly assistance of the captain, their belongings were speedily passed through the Customs office and the boys were free to proceed at once with their task of assembling the Grey Eagle.
Ned secured the services of a carter to haul the boxes to a spot favorable for their purpose and after lunch at a restaurant near the wharf the boys superintended the work of loading.
By mid-afternoon the boys viewed with satisfaction the completed aircraft which had been taken to a field a short distance outside the city limits. An interested crowd of boys hovered near to watch.
Just as Ned announced everything ready a motor drew up near their position, discharging the captain as its only passenger. He was greeted with enthusiasm by all four boys and asked to inspect their work.
"I have some news for you," announced the captain after proclaiming his astonishment at the results so speedily obtained.
"Hurray!" shouted Jimmie. "News is always welcome."
"It is this," went on the captain. "The Nymph came into harbor about noon today. She evidently made good time across the Atlantic."
"And what about the passenger?" asked Ned eagerly. "Did he land in good shape or has he been lost overboard?"
"I am informed by the captain of the Nymph," replied their friend, "that his passenger left the vessel as they were entering the harbor. A launch drew up alongside and the passenger entered that after squaring his accounts properly. He is no doubt ashore now."
"Then look out, Boy Scouts!" declared Jimmie, drawing a deep breath. "The rascal is probably going to head for Paris at once!"
"According to the Chief of Police," continued the captain, "he has not yet presented his passports for inspection. If he is found he will be apprehended and required to explain his presence."
"That won't help us much, I'm afraid," Ned ventured. "He is crafty enough to keep out of the way of the police for a while. I only hope he doesn't get to Paris or to Berlin before we find where he is!"
"Now I must return," declared the captain. "I have done all I could for you and I wish you every success."
Good-byes were said rather reluctantly, for the boys had become quite attached to their friend. Turning their attention to the final adjustments of the Grey Eagle the boys soon had everything completed. They were provisioned and prepared for a long flight.
"What is the first move, Ned?" asked Jack, stowing the last article in place. "Do you suppose this thief will head for Paris?"
"Possibly we would be wise to try out the Grey Eagle a bit to make sure everything is all right," replied Ned thoughtfully. "Then if it proves in good shape, we can return and try to learn what the fellow did upon landing. Maybe he's here in town yet."
"In case he has not left town we will, of course, try to get hold of him here, won't we?" inquired Harry.
"I think it would be best to nab him as soon as possible."
"Maybe he has already gotten to a place where he can hide the plans until he finds a market for them," suggested Jimmie.
"He's a shrewd chap, all right," assented Ned, "and we can't tell what he may do. I think we can find the launch that put him ashore and possibly induce the owner to tell us where our friend has gone."
"Unless the French are different from any other nation on earth," Jack laughed, "they are afflicted with an itching palm and if we can give the launch owner a chance to increase his revenue he will be as willing to tell us where he put the thief ashore as he was to do the job in the first place. Let's try out the Grey Eagle and hurry back."
Accordingly the boys took their places and Ned in the pilot's position started the engine. After the first few explosions to warm the cylinders he closed the muffler, eliminating the sound of the exhaust.
A touch of the throttle, a tilt of the planes and the machine began to move forward. Accelerating the speed of the motor and with a greater inclination of the planes the Grey Eagle swept majestically off the earth, soaring into the air above the heads of the crowd gathered about. Cheers reached the boys as they arose.
"Let's circle the city and go over the harbor," suggested Harry. "We can get a pretty good view of the city that way."
"I can get a good view of a monoplane over to the north," Jimmie stated. "It is coming this way, too!" he added.
It was as Jimmie had said. A giant monoplane, resembling in its conformation a great bird, was rapidly approaching the Grey Eagle.
"Let's give him a run, Ned!" cried Jack excitedly.
"Sure!" acquiesced Ned. "We'll show him a little speed!"
Accordingly he turned on power and in a moment the Grey Eagle was skimming along at a great rate. In order to better manipulate the machine Ned inclined the planes and ascended several hundred feet.
"The other fellow is climbing, too!" reported Jimmie.
"Is he gaining any?" inquired Ned, busy with the levers.
"You're right, he is!" answered Jimmie. "He's overhauling us!"
"Well, let him come," Harry suggested. "This is a trial trip!"
"How near is he now?" asked Ned over his shoulder.
"About a quarter of a mile behind us, I should judge!"
"After a bit we'll make it a whole mile," smiled Ned.
At that instant the boys heard a peculiar whizzing noise. It was followed by a sharp report from the rear. A puff of white smoke showed from the pursuing machine, but quickly disappeared.
"He's shooting at something!" declared Jack.
Ned glanced at his companions. Again the peculiar noise was heard, followed by another report and another cloud of smoke.
"Great Frozen Hot Boxes!" cried Jimmie. "He's shooting at us!"
CHAPTER VIII. Imperiled in a Trap.
"He can't be shooting at us!" protested Harry vigorously. "We haven't done anything to him. It must be a mistake!"
"Mistake or not, I know the sing of a bullet by this time, and if that wasn't one that just passed us, I'll give up!"
"Watch out!" shouted Jack, peering through a pair of binoculars he had hurriedly seized. "He's aiming at us again!"
Again the peculiar sound as of quickly torn silk cloth greeted the ears of the boys. Jimmie involuntarily ducked his head.
"Perhaps we'd better slow up a bit, Ned, and see what this chap wants," suggested Harry anxiously. "This is a warm reception to France, I must say! Wonder if they always do this to newcomers?"
"Don't know, I'm sure," replied Ned as he slackened speed.
"Let's descend a little and see if he follows. Maybe we can land and he'll explain himself. Try it and see, Ned."
"Pick out a good spot and I'll make a landing," Ned replied.
"Here's a good one," Jimmie announced. "Come down in that field by the barn with the thatched roof. See, by that clump of trees."
"Sure I do! But do you notice how the houses are set close to the barns? How neat the country looks from this position!"
"Don't try to get our attention off the chap behind us like that, Ned!" protested Jimmie. "If he shoots again, I'll get sore!"
Evidently the aviator in the monoplane divined their intention of landing, for he fired no more shots, but contented himself with following closely in their wake, although keeping slightly above them.
In a short time Ned had brought the Grey Eagle gently to earth in a vacant field beside the buildings indicated by Jimmie.
The monoplane was circling slowly about, evidently in an effort to make a good landing. The pilot did not seem to be sure of his ground.
Directly the machine had reached the earth, however, the pilot, accompanied by another person, leaped from the machine and with a drawn revolver in his right hand walked rapidly toward the boys.
"What uniform is that he's wearing?" questioned Jimmie.
"I don't know. Possibly that of the French Aviation Corps."
As the two men neared the Grey Eagle the one in uniform addressed the lads in French. They shook their heads to indicate that they did not understand. At this he addressed his companion.
With the stoop of his slender frame accentuated by the sloping shoulders, his quick, shifty movements of the hands and hurried glances from small, beady black eyes, the other man did not compare favorably with the erect carriage and frank, honest appearance of the man in uniform. Jimmie tapped Ned excitedly on the arm.
"I've got his number!" he whispered eagerly. "That's The Rat or I'm a Dutchman! Look at his chopped-off chin and peaked nose."
"He looks remarkably like the pictures Mr. Bosworth gave us!" declared Ned in a startled tone. "I wonder if it is really he?"
"If it is the same one, we'll soon find out!" declared Jimmie.
Then clearing his throat the lad called out brazenly:
"Well, Old Horse, how's Panama?"
Accustomed as he evidently was to surprises of all sorts, the suddenness of this question startled the man under discussion. He gave a quick start and glanced keenly at the lad. A flush overspread his face.
"The Nymph made a quick voyage, didn't she?" continued Jimmie in an aggravating tone. "I didn't think she could do it!"
Evidently recovering himself with an effort the man did not deign a reply to the lad's remarks. Instead, he directed his conversation to the officer, evidently endeavoring to convince that functionary of something. Apparently he was having a hard time doing so.
At length the officer spoke again to the boys, this time using rather imperfect English. He smiled pleasantly as he said:
"Your pardon, gentlemen, but I shall ask you to excuse my English. I am an officer of the French army and shall have to ask you to show your passports and explain your presence here."
"Your English seems to be all right," answered Ned, speaking slowly and in a low tone. "We are citizens of the United States and are here on a pleasure trip. Our passports will convince you. Will you be pleased to examine them?" he continued, drawing forth a document from his inner pocket. The other boys followed his example.
In a manner that impressed the boys very favorably the officer examined the papers, comparing the descriptions given therein with the lads standing before him. Evidently he was satisfied. Turning to his companion the officer spoke a few words in French, whereat the other turned and made for the monoplane. As he departed the officer said:
"I am sorry to make you trouble, but I have a report that you are German spies. I shall have to place you under guard for a short time while I go for assistance and orders. You will not object?"
"Certainly not!" replied Ned pleasantly. "We will do everything we can to help you to establish our identity. But I wish to ask," he continued, "that you do not let that other fellow get away."
"Why not?" asked the officer in surprise.
"Because we suspect him of having committed a crime in America and it is our purpose to arrest him and have him extradited!"
A look of astonishment came over the officer's face.
"But he gave me the information concerning you!" he protested.
"Ah, ha! Just as I thought!" declared Jimmie with some heat.
"However," continued the officer, "I shall make sure he remains until my return. I shall leave him on guard!"
"Good night!" wailed Jimmie. "The Rat! That's the limit!"
Evidently pleased at his solution of a difficult problem the officer turned to his companion, who came hurrying back from his trip to the monoplane. Addressing him rapidly in French, the officer evidently outlined his plan, for the boys saw a crafty look of satisfaction appear on the repulsive face. He eyed the boys with a disgusting leer.
"I shall be compelled to search you, gentlemen!" announced the officer, stepping forward. "One at a time, please!"
Rapidly he felt the pockets of the lads, but discovered nothing.
"Now, if you please, will you not step into the stable so convenient?" he asked pleasantly as if inviting the boys to lunch. "I shall leave the gentleman on guard armed with my pistol and shall return with my superior officer as quickly as I can. Thank you," he added as the boys stepped toward the stable in obedience to his request.
Adjusting a big bar across the door, their captor called out:
"Await me with patience. I shall not be gone long."
"Here's hoping he falls and breaks his neck!" growled Jimmie, kicking a post. "What a rotten jail this is, anyhow!"
"Wonder what's the idea, anyway?" mused Jack. "This Rat chap seemed to have the officer fellow hypnotized!"
"Oh, it's just the Continental idea of policing a place, I suppose," Ned answered with an attempt at cheerfulness. "He'll return soon with a squad and they'll take us to some place for examination."
"And I suppose The Rat will be on his way by that time!" protested Harry with an injured air. "Or maybe he'll shoot us up a little first. He's got a gun that officer gave him!"
"If he goes doing any stunts like that," Jimmie flashed, "I'll show him two can play at the same game! I've got my automatic!"
"Where did you have it?" asked Ned incredulously.
"In my breast pocket holster," replied Jimmie. "The brainy officer just punched my hip pocket and forgot that I had this slung around my neck. He's a bright chap, that fellow!"
"Wonder what's the chances of getting out of this place," Jack ventured. "This window looks too small for us to climb through."
"Maybe we could get out through the roof!" Ned suggested.
"I don't believe it," Jack replied thoughtfully. "That roof is good, old-fashioned thatch put on to stay and we couldn't burst through unless we had a hole made in it to start with!"
"Let Jimmie pretend he's hungry and burrow out below the walls," laughed Harry. "Set a full meal outside the place and I'll wager Jimmie would be out of this prison inside of five minutes!"
"I'm going to endeavor to get the ear of our pleasant looking jailer!" Jimmie announced suddenly. "I have an idea that his beautiful white soul might by some chance be sullied to the tune of a bribe!"
"Don't do it!" advised Ned. "He's not worth wasting time on!"
"But we've got to get out of this hole some way!" protested Jimmie impatiently. "Do we sit around here all night?"
"It isn't night yet by a long ways!" argued Harry. "Keep your temper, Jimmie; we're coming out all right! We're not down yet!"
"I'd like to know what you call it!" Jimmie answered, somewhat aggrieved because his plan was not accepted. "They've got us fast!"
"Listen!" commanded Ned, holding up a warning hand. "What's that?"
"That," cried Jimmie excitedly, "is Monseer Le Officaire on hees r-r-return. He brings wiz heem zee whole French ar-r-my!"
"Not much!" declared Harry at the window. "It doesn't sound like his engine! If this stack of fodder wasn't in the way I could see!"
"Ask The Rat to remove the stack!" suggested Jimmie. "Let me look!"
Although the boys did their best to catch a glimpse from the window of the approaching motor they found it impossible. However, the noise grew more distinct and presently the droning of the motor sounded nearly overhead. As Harry had said, the reports of the exhaust had a sound unlike those from the monoplane. Evidently a third machine was approaching the place where the boys were held prisoners.
"Let's break out!" protested Jimmie. "This is fierce!"
"Wait a minute!" cautioned Ned. "We'll know soon enough!"
"Anyhow, he's got a hot box!" declared Jimmie. "I can smell smoke and he has landed close by. He's been running pretty fast!"
"You've got a great nose on you, Jimmie!" declared Jack, laughing. "If everything you smell was true, what would we do?"
"I smelled your hot box out on Long Island!" Jimmie returned tartly. "Besides," he added, "my nose is as good as the rest of 'em!"
"Nothing the matter with your nose," maintained Jack, "only it's stubbed and freckled and wrinkles when you lose your temper!"
"Yes," agreed Jimmie with a laugh, "and it's got a perfectly good smeller inside! That's more than some folks can say!"
"Wonder what our friend The Rat is doing just about now?" put in Harry. "We haven't heard from him for quite a few minutes."
"Call to him and ask him for a drink of water!"
"Maybe he wouldn't pay any attention," protested Harry.
"I'll shoot through the door, then! That'll fetch him!"
"Jimmie, you're reckless!" laughed Ned, knowing full well that Jimmie would not consider such a dangerous experiment. "Perhaps we'll find out in a short time just what is going on."
"Yes, I think so!" agreed Jimmie. "I can smell that hot box again! It is getting stronger! I'll bet he's got two hot boxes!"
At this a general laugh went up. The boys found it impossible to resist Jimmie's droll humor in trying moments. Many times had the lad held courage in their hearts by his comments on trivialities.
Directly the boys heard the loud clamor of an engine which evidently belonged to the aircraft that had so recently approached.
"Now, what's he up to?" queried Harry, trying vainly to look from the one small window. "Sounds as if he were starting away!"
"That's what he's doing!" replied Jack. "Cooled his hot box!"
"He did not!" protested Jimmie vigorously. "I smell it yet!"
"That doesn't smell like burning grease!" protested Ned as he sniffed the air. "It smells more like hay or straw burning!"
"Listen!" commanded Harry, raising a hand for attention.
All distinctly heard a crackling noise just outside the barn.
"Boys, this barn's on fire!" shouted Jimmie.
CHAPTER IX. A Mysterious Warning.
Ned gave a gasp of astonishment at the statement.
Rushing toward the window he attempted again to secure a view of their surroundings. Driven before a gust of wind a puff of smoke entered, causing the boy to step back choking.
"Can you crawl through that window, Jimmie?" asked Ned.
"Guess it's too small!" returned Jimmie, eyeing the window speculatively. "I'll try it, but I don't believe I can make it!"
Accordingly the lad stripped off his jacket, handed his automatic and holster to Jack and prepared to make the attempt.
"Look out for The Rat, Jimmie!" cautioned Harry anxiously.
"Yes, look out for him!" put in Jack. "It would be just like him to stand to one side and pot you as you drop from the window!"
"I'll keep an eye out for him!" Jimmie answered. "Just as soon as I get out of here I'm going to devote a few minutes to using the brass knuckles on that fellow! He surely needs something!"
Ned and Harry stood by to give Jimmie any possible assistance in his endeavor to leave the building. A cloud of smoke drifted past the window. The crackling of flames grew louder momentarily.
"That's some smoke!" declared Jimmie, coughing as he approached the narrow opening. "I'll bet the fellow that built this shack never intended to have it burn! Wish he'd made the window a bit bigger!"
"Are you ready, Jimmie?" asked Ned. Then as the lad nodded his reply, continued, "Scoot around in front and let down the bar from the door just as quickly as you can. That thatch won't last long!"
"Sure, Jimmie," put in Jack, "don't stop to put the knuckles on with The Rat until you let us out of here. We'll referee the bout!"
Jimmie did not reply to this suggestion, but shut his jaws with an expression familiar to the boys. They knew that the lad would do his best to rescue them from their dangerous situation.
Jimmie's first attempt to crawl through the window met with unquestionable defeat. Without a doubt the opening was too narrow to permit him to pass with any degree of ease.
Supported from the floor by his two chums, Jimmie gave a backward glance and shook his head doubtfully, then turned again to the task in hand. It would be a tight squeeze, but he was determined.
Thrusting up one arm he put that through the window first, then laying his head on his shoulder he attempted to push that through the opening. Only with the greatest difficulty did the lad manage to get his head through. Wriggle as he might, he found it impossible to follow with his chest. Evidently the passage could not be negotiated.
"Come back, Jimmie," called Ned in fear. "We don't want you to get stuck in that place if the old trap is going to burn down!"
"Come on back, Jimmie; we'll find some other way!" cried Jack.
By this time the smoke swirling around the stack of fodder had filled Jimmie's eyes. With every breath he drew in great draughts of smoke-laden air until he was nearly choking. Reluctantly he admitted defeat and endeavored to return. That seemed far from easy.
Just as he was about to draw his head through the opening a gust of wind fanning the growing fire dashed a burst of flame toward the lad. Caught fast in the vise-like embrace of the frame the boy could not escape this scorching onslaught. Quickly he jerked himself back, badly lacerating one ear. He was not in time, however, to escape the loss of his eyebrows and a part of his red hair.
"Don't try that again, Jimmie," advised Harry. "It won't do!"
"Much obliged, I'm sure!" coughed Jimmie. "You're right!"
"How about the door, fellows?" suggested Ned. "Do you suppose we could batter it down? It may not be as solid as it looks!"
"Never can tell till you try!" hopefully spoke up Jack. "What shall we use as a battering ram? They failed to leave us anything."
"Pull loose some floor boards," Jimmie advised, wiping the blood from his injured ear. "Get a good heavy plank!"
"Guess not this trip!" said Harry, rejecting the suggestion. "This floor is made of hard packed dirt and there are no boards!"
"If it was lighter in here, we could see better!" Ned cried. "Have any of you got an electric searchlight with you?"
A quick canvass of the group showed that none of the boys had the desired article. All had been left on the Grey Eagle.
"Pull out that post there!" advised Jack, handing the pistol and jacket back to Jimmie. "All of us get hold of it."
"I'm going to turn in a 'four-eleven'!" announced Jimmie, adjusting the strap of his holster over his head and drawing his automatic from its place. "Maybe someone will hear it and unbar the door!"
"Shoot straight up, Jimmie!" cautioned Ned.
"All right, Boss!" replied the lad, pointing the weapon toward the thatch and pressing the trigger. "Look at that fire up there!" he added, directing the attention of his chums toward the roof.
"The thatch is burning through!" gasped Harry excitedly.
"It won't be long before the roof falls!" added Jack.
Jimmie pressed the trigger again and again in the hope that the sound of his shots would reach friendly ears and procure their release.
Fire now began dropping from several places in the thatch, while the barn filled with smoke. The crackling of the flames grew louder as the fire spread. All the boys were coughing and choking from the smoke they were compelled to inhale. They grouped near the door.
"Here comes the fireman!" yelled Jimmie in delight, as the others were preparing again to attempt an onslaught on the post that had resisted their previous efforts. "Go, slow, lads! One at a time!"
His shout had been called forth by a rattle at the barred door. Springing quickly toward the entrance he called out:
"Hurry up, there! Pull that bar off the door! We're choking!"
A few words unintelligible to Jimmie came in reply.
Directly the bar was removed and the door opened, letting in a great rush of fresh air. As if urged to greater effort in its mad attempt to destroy the boys, the fire blazed up with redoubled fury. The entire roof burst out in flame, no doubt augmented by the sudden rush of air through the now wide opened doorway. The barn was doomed.
Bursting through the entrance, the boys nearly ran over an old man trembling with excitement. His peculiar costume excited their curiosity at once. Dressed in a loose fitting jacket that fell outside baggy trousers, his bare feet thrust into wooden shoes, and with his long white hair falling down over his shoulders, he presented a sight the boys long remembered. He was talking excitedly in French.
"Well, Rip Van Winkle," offered Jimmie, after his first full breath of pure air, "we're much obliged to you, I'm sure. Come away from there, now," he added, "the roof will fall presently!"
But in spite of Jimmie's urging the old man tried to enter the stable again, all the time mumbling to himself.
"What is he saying?" inquired Ned, detaining the old man.
"Listen!" commanded Jimmie. Then addressing their rescuer:
"What did you say? What do you want in there?" he shouted.
"Jimmie, Jimmie!" cautioned Ned. "Maybe he isn't deaf!"
"Sure enough!" agreed Jimmie, in a self-condemnatory tone, "I forgot, and tried to shout at him because he doesn't understand English!"
"What is he saying?" again asked Ned, drawing nearer.
"La vasche, la vasche!" repeated their friend.
"Oh, it's the boss you want?" triumphantly responded Jimmie. Then, indicating Ned, he said: "This is our boss; ask him!"
But the old man shook his head and tried again to enter the barn.
"I'll bet I know what he wants!" cried Jack. "He thinks his cow is in the barn, and he's looking for it! Here, Mister, is this it?" Jack emitted a long and very dignified "Moo-oo-oo!"
A smile overspread the aged features as the man nodded vigorously.
Ned glanced at Jimmie with a twinkle in his eye. Catching Ned's glance, the lad turned away with a very red face and mumbled:
"She ain't here! She went down to the delicatessen about half an hour ago to get a pint of milk. You needn't wait!"
"That's a good one, Jimmie!" Ned laughed. "He didn't want me!"
"That's a horse on me, all right!" admitted Jimmie sheepishly.
Taking the old gentleman by the arm, Ned led him carefully away from the burning building. He pointed back and shook his head as if to indicate that nothing remained inside the building. In a short time the roof fell with a crash. Silently weeping, the old man sat watching the destruction of his stack of fodder and barn.
"Well, where is The Rat?" asked Jimmie, recalling the boys to the present. "If I could get hold of him, I'd warm his jacket!"
"Don't know, I'm sure!" replied Ned. "Maybe he went away in the other airship that arrived just as the fire started!"
Jimmie gave a gasp. Turning to Ned in astonishment, he said:
"Ned, you don't suppose that the officer returned and then they burned the place and left us there to die! I don't believe it!"
"Say," put in Jack, "if it wasn't so hard to believe, that would be the most reasonable solution of the whole matter!"
"Wonder what they did to the Grey Eagle before they left!" suggested Harry. "Suppose we take a stroll over there and look about."
"I can see the machine there in the field where we left it," spoke up Jimmie. "Suppose we ask the old party here for some supper!"
"Hungry again, Jimmie?" laughed Ned.
"Sure I am, and so are you, if you'd admit it!" returned the boy. "Let's get something to eat and ask the old fellow if he noticed which way the airship went as it left here. He must have seen it!"
"All right, go ahead and ask him!" grinned Ned.
"Aw, shucks!" sputtered Jimmie. "You know I can't talk French!"
"Go on, Jimmie, say 'Polly Voo' to him, anyway!" laughed Jack.
"Polly Voo, yourself, if you want to!" answered Jimmie, somewhat sulkily. "I've made a fool of myself once, and that's enough! Besides," he added, "I want to wash this blood and dirt off my ear!"
"That's right, Jimmie, we nearly forgot you!" said Ned. "We ought to be scolded for neglecting you after your brave effort!"
Approaching the old man, who still bemoaned the loss of his property, Ned indicated by signs that they wanted water to bathe the injured boy's bleeding ear. Comprehending at once, the man fetched a basin of water and set it down before them.
"Now, when it comes to the supper, I'll ask him for it myself!" declared Jimmie. "You promised while we were in New York I might do that!"