“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!”