The aircraft boys of Lakeport

Here was a new turn of affairs, and the men and the boys listened with interest to what Mr. Martin had to say. But the farmer could tell little more than what has already been mentioned, excepting that the transfer of the land to Mr. Akers had taken place some six months previous.

“One thing is certain,” remarked Mr. Westmore. “This Mr. Mason is wrapped up pretty closely in Andrew Akers’s affairs.”

“You are right,” returned Mr. Rush.

“But it doesn’t prove that Mr. Mason carried Mr. Akers off or is holding him a prisoner,” put in Joe.

“Not at all,” said Mr. Rush. “And, as matters stand, I do not see what we can do further. It would be worse than useless to make any charges unless we can substantiate them.”

“Wish I had landed from the Skylark when I saw the two men,” said the elder Westmore lad, mournfully. “That is where I missed it.”

“Well, better luck next time, Joe,” came from Fred. “If those men are guilty, they are bound to be cornered sooner or later.”

Our friends returned to Lakeport, and the men went to their places of business, while the boys hurried home, to do their evening chores. In the evening, Joe and Harry heard a well-known whistle outside of the house and went out on the piazza to meet Matt.

“Great news!” cried the newcomer. “After this the Skylark won’t be in it! Put that old flying machine in the woodshed and make way for the new and up-to-the-minute sky racers of Lakeport!” And the fun-loving youth put up his elbows and moved them up and down as if flying.

“Why, what do you mean?” queried Harry.

“I mean that Lakeport is forging to the front and will soon be the racing center of the East—I mean aerial racing center,” returned Matt.

“Aerial racing center?” repeated Joe. “Say, Matt, where’s the joke?”

“No joke about this. Don’t you know that we are to have two new flying machines in our midst, as the Brookside Weekly News will state it? Two splendid, snowy, awe-inspiring, death-defying aeroplanes—the wonder of the century and the marvel of the globe? Step up, ladies and gentlemen, and buy your tickets for the small sum of fif——”

“Say, Matt, give it to us straight!” cried Harry, catching the joker by the shoulder.

“Wow! Say, Harry, that shoulder is built of flesh and blood, not sawdust!” exclaimed Matt. “Do you want to lame me for life and three days more?”

“Then tell us the news and no nonsense.”

“All right then, here goes, as straight as a shot from Joel Runnell’s rifle. George Dixon, Andy Brown, and about a dozen other rich lads of Brookside have clubbed together and they are going to buy a biplane. They had an offer of a dandy flying machine from an aviator who fell and broke his collar bone, or something, and they took the offer up. They get the biplane this week.”

“Well, I never!” murmured Harry.

“If they get a machine we can have some contests,” added Joe, his face showing his interest.

“Item number two,” went on Matt. “Do you know the Bartley boys, of Haverford, Bill and Carl?”

“I’ve heard of them,” came from the Westmore lads.

“Well, they have purchased a monoplane—some sort of a French outfit, so I was told. They are learning to fly, and they say that sooner or later they are going to challenge you to a race.”

“A monoplane,” mused Harry.

“Monoplanes are very swift machines, so James Slosson told me,” came from Joe. “I guess they could beat us. But it would be fun to race!” he added, with a smile.

“Any more flying machines coming?” questioned Harry.

“For the love of rice pudding, Harry, how many do you want?” gasped Matt, in pretended disgust. “Here I serve you two, on a silver platter, and you’re not satisfied. Maybe——”

“It’s great news, Matt, and I’m glad you told us,” broke in Joe. “Have you told the others yet?”

“Bart was with me when I heard of it. He said he would tell Fred.”

“Then we must tell Link,” cried Harry. “Yes, it certainly is news. I thought those Brookside fellows would do something, after they heard we had a flying machine. We got after ’em with that rowing outfit, if you will remember, and they haven’t forgotten that,” went on the younger Westmore lad, referring to some happenings which have already been related in detail in “The Boat Club Boys of Lakeport.”

“Haverford isn’t much further than Brookside,” said Matt. “You fellows with flying machines might get up some sort of an Aeroplane Club.”

“Oh, I don’t think that would pay,” replied Joe. “But we might have some races and other contests, just for the fun of it.”

“What other contests than races can you have?” asked Matt, with interest.

“Oh, lots of them!” cried Harry, who had been reading several aeronautical magazines. “There are contests for height, and landing contests, to see how near to a mark one can come down, and then they have trials to see who can discover something hidden away in a woods, or between brushwood, and trials to see who can catch the most of a number of round, toy balloons that are sent up, and who can drop little bags of sand in boxes placed in a circle in a big field. At some of the aviation meets they get a lot of sport out of the various contests.”

The next day the boys met at the Darrow carpenter shop and talked over the news Matt and Bart had brought. What had been said was true, and one day of the following week Joe and Fred went to Brookside on an errand and met George Dixon, and were taken to the Brookside boathouse, where the boys who had purchased the biplane had it stored.

“Certainly a dandy-looking machine,” said Joe, on looking the biplane over. “Have you been up yet?”

“Twice, but only as a passenger,” answered George Dixon. “An aviator is coming in a few days to teach four of us how to fly.”

“Good for you!” cried Fred. “The sooner the better. We want some races, you know.”

“All right, Fred; but you’ll have to wait until we get the hang of the thing,” responded George, with a laugh.

“Have you heard anything of the Bartley boys?” questioned Joe.

“Yes; one of ’em, Bill, was over here in his monoplane yesterday.”

“Here! Then he can fly?”

“Sure he can. It seems that he has been on a visit to some relatives on Long Island, and there he went to an aviation school and learned all about it. That is where he got his monoplane, too.”

“Is it nice?”

“It looks to be a splendid machine for flying, although it isn’t new. It has a big plane on either side and a very long rudder-tail. The only thing I don’t like about it is that he has to sit so close to his motor. If anything should happen I’m afraid that engine would kill him.”

“Does he want to race?”

“Yes, not only Bill but his brother Carl, too. That is what he came over about. He said he was going to call on you fellows, too,” added George Dixon.

“Say, don’t you fellows want to try our biplane?” asked Andy Brown, who had followed the others to the boathouse. “I’m willing.”

“So am I,” added George.

“Not I,” cried Fred. “I’ll stick to the machine I know.”

“Biplanes are not like bicycles,” said Joe. “A fellow has got to know all about the particular machine he is using. I’d not take a chance in a strange affair.”

“Well, I don’t blame you,” returned Andy. “Even as it is, they look rather scary, don’t they?”

“Well, so did a rowing shell, when I first got into one,” said George.

“And an auto,” added Fred. “When I first ran a car I felt as if I was in the cab of a locomotive!”

The boys spent a good hour in inspecting the Brookside biplane, and in talking over aviation matters in general. Then they went home and got out the Skylark and each took a short flight, over the lake and the fields back of Lakeport.

“Each time I go up I feel a little more confident,” said Fred.

“That’s how it is with me,” responded Joe.

As was to be expected, the news that some boys of Brookside and others of Haverford had purchased aeroplanes filled Si Voup and Ike Boardman with envy. In the past both had done all they could to “cut a shine” in Brookside and Haverford as well as in Lakeport.

“Humph! Those fellows are simply imitating Joe Westmore and his crowd!” grumbled Si. “It makes me sick to see it!”

“Say, Si, we ought to get a flying machine,” returned Ike, as if it was a new idea, although they had talked it over several times.

“All right, why don’t you buy one to-day?” demanded the rich youth, who was particularly out of sorts that morning.

“Because I haven’t got the cash, that’s why.”

“Well, I haven’t the cash either.”

“Won’t your dad buy one? He bought the motor boat.”

“Well, he won’t stand for a flying machine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I am. I spoke to him twice, but he wouldn’t do a thing,—said I had playthings enough, and that it was time I settled down and thought of work.” And Si sighed deeply and lit a cigarette with which to console himself. “I am sorry I gambled with those two men we took to Cresco in the boat,” he added, sourly.

“Say, don’t you suppose we might get the money somehow?” went on Ike, after a pause, during which he, too, lit a cigarette. The two boys thought it manly to smoke.

“I don’t see how. Flying machines cost a lot of money—as much as a high-class auto.”

“We might try those other men?” continued Ike, and gazed speculatively at his crony.

“You mean Mr. Mason and Mr. Chase?”

“Yes.”

Si shrugged his shoulders and then shook his head slowly.

“Why not?” demanded the Boardman boy. “They said they would pay us well for what we did for them.”

“Hush! Not so loud, Ike!” cried Si, warningly, and gazed around apprehensively. The two were in the Voup boathouse, a pretty little structure fronting the lake.

“There isn’t anybody around.”

“Well, I’d rather you wouldn’t talk about that affair, Ike.”

“Why not?”

“We might get into trouble, and I’ve had trouble enough. If I get into any more, my old man says he will take away the auto and the motor boat, and cut off my allowance.”

“Phew, that’s rough, for a fact. But I can’t see why those men shouldn’t pay us for what we did for them. It was hard work and mighty risky too. Why not go to them and talk it over?”

“No, I’d rather drop it, Ike.”

“Humph! You must be afraid!” grumbled the other. He liked to help Si spend money, not having very much of a supply of his own, even though his parents were fairly well off.

“It isn’t a question of being afraid, exactly,” answered the Voup boy. “There was something queer about that affair and I don’t think it will pay to stir it up. I’ve heard a few things lately that have set me to thinking.”

“About Mason and Chase?”

“Yes, and about the man who was stopping with Joel Runnell. I don’t think Mason and Chase told us the truth.”

“All the more reason why you ought to make them pay for what we did, Si. Why, perhaps we could get a pile of money out of ’em.”

“I don’t think so. Both of them are as close as the bark on a tree, so I’ve been told. No, Ike, if we want to keep out of trouble, we had better forget all about that affair,” added Si; and just then his father appeared and the talk, as well as the cigarettes, had to be dropped.