The Bird boys

“Oh! Frank!”

Andy had turned white, and looked weak. A dreadful foreboding seemed to have suddenly seized upon him. It was as though a cold hand had been brought in direct contact with his wildly beating heart, stilling its pulsations.

But Frank was not affected in the same way. His face flushed with anger. They had, as if by mutual consent, lowered their burden to the ground upon making this startling discovery. Frank was therefore free to act; and his first movement was toward throwing open the unfastened double door of the shed, to plunge inside. Whatever there was to discover, Frank meant to know the worst immediately.

There upon the floor was the precious monoplane, so nearly finished that it looked as though it might be ready to start the engine at a minute’s notice.

But there was something wrong about it. Andy had followed his cousin into the place, and his horrified eyes quickly discovered what had been done by the vandal hands of those who had found entrance during the preceding night.

“The planes have been cut into ribbons! Oh! what a shame! All our work just ruined by some sneak and coward! Frank, ain’t it awful?” he exclaimed, clenching his hands in a manner that told of great excitement.

“Hold on,” said the cooler one, raising his hand; “it’s true that the canvas of the planes has been spoiled utterly; but if that was the whole thing I wouldn’t care so much. Let me examine the engine first.”

Eagerly he removed the canvas covering the motor. Andy went and opened the great doors wider, so that he could have an abundance of light. Then, with his heart in his throat, so to speak, Andy hovered near, waiting for the dread verdict.

Presently Frank looked up.

“Oh!” cried the other, as he saw that his cousin was smiling, “tell me nothing vital has happened, Frank! They didn’t dare hurt that little darling Kinkaid engine, did they? No, your beaming face tells me so. Is that all the damage they did?” and he pointed to the cut canvas of the two planes.

Frank nodded his head.

“I can’t find anything more, old fellow,” he said, cheerily, the cloud dissipated from his brow that had a minute before been so threatening.

“But how did that come, d’ye think?” demanded Andy. “Seems to me I can give a right good guess who did this dirty job, even if they covered up their tracks like they always do; but why would they stop at smashing our planes, when they could put our engine on the blink so easy?”

“Well,” observed Frank, thoughtfully, “we happen to know that some people I won’t mention have more than their share of caution. While we mightn’t make much fuss about the planes, if the engine had been tampered with we’d be apt to complain to the chief of Bloomsbury police, Mr. Waller, and have him investigate.”

“But what could have been their object?” Andy complained, as he looked closer at the slashed material covering the framework of the planes.

“Just malicious deviltry, I guess,” replied Frank, gloomily. “They were curious to see what we were doing with our monoplane, and forced the lock last night. Then the temptation was too great to be resisted. They just had to do something to satisfy that craving for ugliness. Besides, don’t you see, it would delay us; and that would allow them to steal some of our thunder.”

“Sure enough,” cried Andy, “I never thought about that. Everybody knows that we expect to give our little trap a trail soon. And what a feather it would be in the cap of Puss and Sandy if, instead of the Bird boys, they sailed over Bloomsbury first! Oh! what schemers they are! Always jealous of everybody else, and wanting everything to come their way!”

“Well, after all, there’s really no damage done,” laughed his cousin.

“Ain’t, eh? How d’ye make that out?” asked Andy, ruefully handling the tattered material of the planes.

“Why,” said Frank, “have you forgotten what we decided about this stuff—that it was a bit too flimsy, and not to be depended on, when a fellow was risking so much? And didn’t I go and order another lot through Spencer’s drygoods store last week? They ought to have it in by tomorrow, or the next day at most; when we can get busy, and cover these wings with canvas that will hold.”

Andy had his turn to laugh, which he did most heartily, as usual.

“What d’ye think of that, now? After all, they only helped us cut the old stuff away, to make ready for the new. Of course, they don’t happen to know about your order. And they think we’ll have to wait a week before we can get anything worth using. And come to think of it, that’s the way the schemes engineered by Puss Carberry generally do turn out. They kick at the wrong end, like a gun that isn’t pushed up against the shoulder. Well, this is a joke on them, after all.”

“All the same, their intentions were bad enough!” declared Frank, sternly.

“Sure they were,” Andy echoed. “In the first place they busted open our locked doors, and looked our machine over. That was treachery of the first water. Then they tried to hold us back, so they could show the town people that the Bird boys weren’t the only smart chaps in Bloomsbury. That was about the way Sandy bragged. And Frank, what d’ye think he accused me of wanting to do?”

“Stealing his freight, you said,” returned the other.

“Huh! worse than that,” grumbled the other. “He declared he believed I meant to throw some acid on their cylinder, so that it would eat in, and make the blooming thing crack, just when they were up in the clouds, boring for altitude.”

“Just like the mean skunk. Those sort of things are always in his mind; and so he suspects others are just as nasty about doing such stunts,” said Frank with an expression of disgust.

“Just about what I told him to his face,” Andy observed, quickly. “And as sure as you live, here’s the evidence of it right before us. Ten to one Sandy slashed these planes with his knife. Wish he’d happened to drop it here; wouldn’t I like to pick it up, and tell him where I found it?”

As he spoke, Andy started to look around the shop. His comrade presently heard him give utterance to a sudden exclamation, as he stooped over.

“Found any knife?” asked Frank, humorously.

“Well, no; not a knife; but I have raised a knave of spades. Look here, neither of us ever had a pack of cards in this shanty, did we? Then what is this doing here, tell me?” and Andy excitedly held up what he had found.

Frank thought enough of it to take the card from his cousin’s hand, and look it over. Then he laughed.

“Same old story,” he said, nodding. “Did Puss Carberry ever try any dodge without having it backfire? Now, I would be willing to take my affidavit that there was no such card lying around loose here yesterday when we worked at our monoplane. So it goes to show that it must have been pulled from the pocket of one of our midnight visitors, perhaps when he was getting out his handkerchief or a knife.”

“But can we prove it on them?” asked Andy, hungrily, as he glanced once more at the cut planes.

“Perhaps we can,” replied Frank, thoughtfully, wrinkling his brow as he reflected. “In the first place, we must try and learn whether either of those fellows own a pack of cards marked on the back like this. You see it is an Indian figure, and underneath are the words ‘The Red Hunter.’ I don’t know for certain, but I’ve got a hunch that Puss brought this pack back with him, when he came from the city last.”

“Yes. Go on,” said Andy, deeply interested.

“All right. Then in some public place, where there are a number of people present, we must make sure Puss has the cards with him; after which we will accuse him, and make him show whether this one card is missing from his pack.”

“Gee! you know how to show up these things all right, Frank!” exclaimed, the delighted Andy. “Suppose you get that brain-box of yours busy on another little mystery we know of now. Honestly, I have a hunch that if you would only try you could discover what became of my darling little monkey wrench. I’m like the baby and the soap you see advertised—I’ll never be happy till I get it.”

“I don’t believe you’ll give me any rest till you do remember where you put that plagued little tool,” declared the other, laughing.

“Hold on, don’t you go to calling it names,” said Andy, aggressively; “because it’s no fault of the wrench that it’s missing. I’m the one to blame, I reckon. But I’ll never give up trying to recollect where I put the thing away so safe that I’ve even forgotten the combination.”

“Yes,” smiled his cousin, “I’ve known people to do that before. Perhaps I may have done it myself. But if it comes to the worst, I suppose you can have a duplicate made that will answer just as well?”

“Oh! I reckon so,” replied Andy. “But think of the time and worry that thing cost me, not to mention the expense. Besides, I just don’t know how we’re ever going to make that first ascent minus that invaluable tool.”

“Well, forget it just now. We’ve sure got all the trouble we want to install this important part of our machine. I’ll drop in at Spencer’s place the first time I’m in town today, and see if the bolt of stuff has arrived. It would be great good luck if I found it had, Andy.”

Throwing off their coats, the two boys got to work. And presently they were as busy as beavers, crawling about the apparently clumsy object which occupied so much of the shed’s interior.

Colonel Whympers had had the place constructed especially for the purpose of furthering their plan. There never was a guardian more indulgent than this old traveler, now reduced to hobbling around with a crutch and cane. And Andy never tired of letting the old chap know how much he appreciated his generous heart.

Of course the structure was flimsily built, as most hangars are, being intended merely as temporary resting places for air craft. Many times Frank and his cousin knew that the town boys had come out of their way to peer through the crack in order to gratify their natural curiosity. But up to now no one had ever attempted to injure anything connected with the monoplane, or its shelter.

Several hours passed away. The engine was now complete, and Frank had even given it a trial spin. The sound of its humming was pleasant music in the ears of these aeroplane boys, for they had a severe case of the up-to-date disease. Andy came by his naturally, inheriting it from his father; but with Frank it was acquired from his reading, backed by a desire to see strange places of the great world, hitherto inaccessible to ordinary travelers.

“Say, that’s great!” cried Andy, as he stood and watched the easy play of the lightest little engine ever invented.

“Works like a charm,” said the proud Frank, standing there, adjusting the automatic oiler, ready to drop a little lubricant wherever the friction came sharpest. “And even now I’ve only got half the power turned on. Tomorrow we’ll place the bicycle wheels under the framework; or if we happen to feel like it, that might be done tonight.”

“Tonight?” echoed the other. “Sounds like you expected to camp out alongside the little charmer.”

Frank turned upon him, and his dark eyes gleamed as he replied.

“And that’s just what we’re going to do, my boy—stick by our machine day and night until we make our first flight. I’d never feel safe in bed after seeing how easy it would be for those savages to injure her. What if they were mean enough to file partly through a wire support of the planes, and we never noticed it? It would hold out till we put extra pressure on it, and that might be five hundred feet up in the air. No, one of us must be here all the time!”

“You’re right, Frank. I’ll bring over blankets from the house, and we can just bunk out here. Won’t be the first time either that we’ve kept house together, not by a long shot. But you figured that card business down fine. Only wish you would turn that genius on the puzzle that’s bothering me.”

“Oh! rats. Suppose you let that thing sleep for a while, Andy. You said yourself you’d be sure to remember some minute what you did with the wrench. Now, let’s figure how we’re going to get any grub while here.”