The Bird boys

“Did you ever see such nerve, Puss, in all your life?” gasped Sandy, as the two newcomers brought up alongside the astonished Andy.

“Look at the vandal, would you, ripping the cover off our cylinder just as cool as you please! Hey! Sandy, see anything of the yard watchman around? We ought to have him pinch this thief straight away!” snapped the Carberry boy, as he glared at the stooping figure.

“Ain’t he the bird, though?” went on Sandy, pretending to be surprised in turn; “And as sure as you live, Puss, it’s the tail end of that wonderful Bird combination that’s going to do such stunning stunts one of these fine days. Oh! me! oh! my! What a loss there’ll be when he is shut up in the cooler!”

“Looky here, just explain what right you’ve got cutting open our freight, that’s the ticket!” blustered Percy, shaking his clenched hand in front of Andy’s nose.

“Take that away! I don’t like it. And what the dickens do you mean saying this thing is your freight?” demanded the threatened one, beginning to gain his feet; for he did not just fancy kneeling so close to a fellow like Percy Hollingshead, whose reputation for treachery was well known.

“Because it is our freight. Go back to school and learn to read, you lunkhead!” the other went on, seeming to get more and more angry—because they were two to one, and the freight yard was a usually sequestered place, where no one would be apt to interfere, if so be they chose to administer a drubbing to the offensive investigator.

“But it’s certainly a cylinder for an airship!” declared Andy, casting a quick glance down toward his feet, where the partly uncovered object lay.

“Who said it wasn’t, tell me that? Did you hear either of us whisper anything to that effect?” demanded Percy, aggressively.

“Must think you’ve got just a monopoly of the flying business!” sneered Sandy, puffing out his chest like a pigeon strutting along the barn roof. “Time you woke up and learned a few things, one of which is that with all your bluster and brag the firm of Bird and Bird is soon going to be a back number. Back to the junk heap for yours, Andy. Your name should be spelled Mud!”

“Oh! that’s it, is it!” exclaimed the other, more than a little surprised; for these fellows had up to now kept their intentions secret. “Let me take a peep at the tag then. Didn’t occur to me to think of doing that before, because neither of us ever dreamed that anybody else in Bloomsbury but us could be getting a cylinder for an aeroplane.”

One glance convinced him, for the name of Percy Carberry was plainly printed on the big stout tag.

“Say, I’m sorry about this,” Andy declared instantly. “Wouldn’t have had it happen for a good deal. But you can see how we fell into such a blunder, fellows! I guess no harm has been done. I’ll fasten up this burlap again if you say so.”

It was as manly an apology as any boy would expect, and should have been met in the same frank spirit that it was given. But that was not the Carberry and Hollingshead way. They exchanged looks. Then they laughed sneeringly.

“Listen to the sneak crawl, would you?” exclaimed Sandy, with an expressive and insulting shrug of the shoulders.

“Just the Bird way, always trying to creep out of trouble. Caught in the act, he pretends it was all a mistake. But you don’t pull the wool over our eyes, Andy Bird. We’re on to your curves all right, ain’t we, Sandy?”

“Sure we are. A clear case of professional jealousy. Heard that we were going to have a biplane that would cut circles all around your old top, and just couldn’t resist the temptation to spy on us. Hey! Puss, I wouldn’t put it past him to throw some strong acid on this fine cylinder of ours, so as to make it weak, and bust, some time when we happened to be sailing around up there among the clouds!”

“You’re crazy, that’s what!” burst out the indignant Andy, aroused by this mean taunt and insinuation, as nothing else could have stirred his blood. “Nobody in all Bloomsbury would ever think of such a ridiculous thing but you! Why, your mind’s just crammed with vile tricks like that, Sandy Hollingshead. Now, just put that in your pipe and smoke it!”

The one addressed scowled, and turned a quick, interrogative look toward his companion.

“Hear that, do you, Puss?” he gritted between his teeth. “The sneak wants to pick a fuss with us. It ain’t enough for him to be caught in the act; he tries to holler ‘stop thief’ just like them clever pick-pockets do down in New York, when they snatch a purse and run. What say, ought we to trim him, now that we’ve got the chance?”

Percy looked willing. Indeed, if there was one person in all Bloomsbury whom he would like to thrash better than Andy, it was his cousin, Frank.

Their manner was pugnacious and aggressive as they began to close in on the object of their regard. Andy believed he was in for a peck of trouble. He knew he could never hope to hold his own against the precious pair; and the worst of it all was that he had unwittingly given them a good cause for attacking him, owing to his carelessness in meddling with the wrapper of the steel cylinder before examining the label.

But Andy was game. He had a never-say-die spirit, even if not as clever a fighter as his cousin. No one could ever force him to give up so long as he had a single breath left with which to resist.

So he closed his hands, and assumed an attitude of defense. At this Sandy actually broke out into a roar.

“Look at that, would you, Puss!” he cried. “The beggar means to object to taking his medicine like a little man! All right; we’ll just have to make him open his beak and swallow the bitter pill. You give him the first dose, Puss. I’ll take care he don’t skeedaddle in a hurry!”

“Hold on a minute, fellows,” said Andy, as though striving to gain time.

“What you got to say now, hey?” demanded the Hollingshead boy. “Get it off your system in a big hurry, for we ain’t got any time to waste with you.”

“I’m going to prove what I said, and that we believed this was our cylinder, or else we wouldn’t have touched it,” declared Andy, who had an eye beyond the figure of Sandy, though the other did not realize the fact.

“Are, hey? Well, all I can say is that you’re going to have a mighty big job convincing us you’re innocent. Hurry up!” snarled Percy, anxious to start operations, and wipe out some little matters that burned in his brain, and which had to do with certain defeats in the past at the hand of a Bird boy.

“All right. While I dropped down here to remove this burlap, just to have something to do, and feast my eyes on the lovely cylinder we wanted so much, Frank went to see the yard clerk, and settle the bill.”

“Frank?” exclaimed Percy, uneasily. “Was he along with you?”

“Sure,” sang out Andy, knowing that the anticipated rupture was all off. “And if you turn your wise old head right now you’ll see his well known figure sprinting this way, with the clerk following after him!”

Whereupon the other pair shot a quick glance in the direction indicated; and what they discovered somehow caused them to no longer keep their hands doubled up in that aggressive manner.

“Oh! well, in that case, perhaps there was a mistake made,” Sandy hastened to say; for he saw that Frank was jumping toward them in a fashion that somehow did not appeal to his fancy—for Sandy had more or less knowledge of the excellent manner in which the tall lad could use his fists on occasion, when forced to fight.

“Yes, and next time just be a little more careful how you dig into other people’s things, if you please!” said Percy, also anxious to cast oil on the troubled waters before the other Bird arrived on the scene.

“What’s the matter?” asked Frank as he reached the side of his cousin, and turned a look of contempt on the precious pair.

“Oh!” laughed Andy, carelessly, so lightly did such things affect him, “they were just complaining that I’d gone and meddled with their freight, and didn’t want to accept my humble apologies. But I guess it’s all right now, Frank. Has our cylinder come?”

“Sure, but hasn’t been taken from the car yet. Come, we’ll go with Sam Harrington here, and claim it. He says we can easily carry it home with us.”

Frank never gave the two standing there a single word. He understood how matters had probably been at the time of his opportune arrival.

“They didn’t dare a lay a finger on you, did they, Andy?” he asked, while they walked after the yard clerk toward a certain car near by.

“Well, no,” admitted the other, quickly, “but the storm was just going to break when you showed up. But what do you think of their nerve in getting a biplane ready to show us up? Say, things look like they might be getting warm around old Bloomsbury pretty soon. I can see the time coming when the town will be a regular aviation center, with aerodromes and hangars dotting the landscape. And we’re the pioneers of the great uplift movement!”

“That sounds pretty good—uplift movement when applied to aeroplanes and dirigible balloons is fine! But don’t let your imagination run away with you, Andy. Perhaps we may get dropped out of our aircraft the first shot, and that squash would put a dampener on all flying in this section. Even Percy’s easy going mother will cut off the spending money. And that aviation field you have in your mind’s eye can never crop up.”

“Well, anyway, there’s our cylinder; and just now that’s what ought to interest us more than anything else. A biplane, he said! Think of that, Frank. Just like Puss Carberry to want to outdo everybody else. He knew ours was going to be equipped with a single pair of planes; and of course he falls into the error of believing he can beat us by doubling up. His old game, Frank; but when did it work?”

“Not very often, for a fact,” replied the other, as he bent down to lift one end of the package the clerk pointed out to them.

Presently the freight bill having been settled the two boys walked off bearing between them the precious piece of machinery that was needed to complete their labors of two months. With that placed in its proper position, and several minor things adjusted, they believed the monoplane would be ready for testing.

And what a great day it would be for the Bird boys when they were able to take their first little flight near the ground. Andy thrilled as he talked of the glorious prospect ahead, and now attainable, since the last difficulty seemed to have been smoothed away.

They took their time in walking back to the Whympers place. Several boys whom they chanced to meet, asked questions concerning the time when they expected to try out the new flying machine. But to these the cousins gave noncommittal answers.

“Think we want a crowd of fellows gaping, and bothering right at that critical time?” declared Andy, as they left a group of comrades on the road. “I just can’t get that old story of Darius Green and his flying machine out of my head. Gee! I hope we don’t come a cropper like he did, and smash everything! But here we are at the road that leads down to the field where our hangar stands. Turn in, Frank.”

Passing alongside the garden, they presently struck the gate that opened into the broad field which they expected to use for their circling, once they got the monoplane to working.

“Here, drop her while I find my key,” said Andy, suiting the action to the word. “Three to one it’s up at the house, in my other clothes that I had on last night when we were working here. Ain’t that just a blooming shame now, that a fellow has to sprint all the way there and back?”

“Hold on!” exclaimed Frank, suddenly, and there was that in the tone of his voice to startle his cousin, who stopped still, while in the act of hurrying away.

“What’s the matter?” he demanded. “Did I happen to give you the key now?”

“Not that I remember. But you needn’t run to the house. We can get in without any key this time, I guess,” said Frank, with an angry gleam in his dark eyes.

He pointed to the door, and looking, Andy saw that the staple holding the padlock had been drawn, so that it could be pulled with the slightest effort!