The Aeroplane Boys Flight Part 8

And that is destined to be the greatest value of these winged messengers in future years, since it has been proven that they are not so very dangerous after all in the line of dropping explosives upon battleships or fortified places.

"Somewhere up yonder, Frank, they are probably hiding, and feeling perfectly safe from pursuit," ventured Andy, who was sweeping the marine gla.s.ses around and examining the country ahead with more than common interest.

"Look how Old Thunder-top stands out today!" remarked Frank, turning for just an instant to glance upward toward the left, where the high mountain towered, its heavily wooded sides looking as gloomy as ever, and the white cliffs that made the summit inaccessible to human feet, appearing almost dazzling in the glittering light of the undimmed morning sun.

"And say, there's our old friends, the eagles that had a nest up there, and gave me such a warm time when we first reached the top." Andy cried, as he focused his gla.s.ses on a sweeping pair of huge birds that were heading their way, as if meaning to investigate, and find out what manner of rival this could be, invading their native element.

"They know too much to bother with an aeroplane by now!" declared Frank, laughing again. "Why I'm thinking those birds have hardly grown new feathers in place of the lot they lost that time they fought us so savagely."

The memory appeared to amuse his cousin also, for he could be heard laughing heartily, even above the purr of the now steadily going motor that sent the propellers whizzing around so rapidly; for there was one fore and aft, as is the case with all biplanes, the engine being behind the pilot and his companion.

"Tell me if you can remember, was that other aeroplane headed straight up the lake the last you saw it in the early morning light?" Frank asked.

"That's right, Frank; but then I couldn't say just how long they kept along that same course. When those hundreds of old crows came sailing along on the wind, cawing to beat the band, and going every-which-way, I lost sight of the biplane. After that it would have to be just guess work."

"But we've got a good pointer to start with," insisted Frank. "They wouldn't be so apt to head toward the south, east or west, because in those directions there are plenty of towns and villages, and these could report seeing a strange biplane pa.s.sing over, so giving the police a clue. No, chances are ten to one they kept right on toward the north.

And there's where we've got to do all our searching today. We can just comb the whole district over, and anything that looks like the stolen aeroplane is sure to catch our attention from this height, don't you think so, Andy?"

"I reckon it will, Frank; but the only thing bothers me is that things may have worked all right with the rascals, and by now they're away off, so far distant that we'll never in the wide world get in touch with them, the more the pity."

"Well, it's never been a habit of ours to own up beaten till we've done everything under the sun to win out. And Andy, we've only started as yet. The field is before us, you know, with a whole day's supply of gas to push us on, if we want to keep going. So I'm not asking any favors, and expect to do just my level best to find out where the bank robbers have gone."

"And if we hunt around a whole lot without getting tabs on the pair, why, we can drop down somewhere in a town, and get in touch with Bloomsbury Headquarters. The Chief as much as promised that he'd leave word there to put us wise to anything that had been learned by way of the telephone, from other places. And given a clue in that way, we might take a fresh spurt, you know."

"Just so, Andy," agreed the other, bending his head to watch how some part of the machinery was doing its duty; for that is always the weak link in modern aviation, nearly everything depending on the engine fulfilling its part perfectly.

Andy continued to make use of the pair of gla.s.ses that magnified objects in the far distance so wonderfully that a man could have been recognized easily a mile away, and perhaps much further, if the air were real clear.

Now and then he turned them to the right. The beautiful lake always attracted him very much like a magnet would, whenever he had a chance to look out over its glistening bosom.

And there was the little steamer, just as Frank had said; why, he could even distinguish Todd Pemberton up in the pilothouse, grasping his wheel and guiding his charge among the shoals that were charted in the northern end of the lake as dangerous, that is, for green hands at the tiller or wheel of a boat propelled by sails, steam or gasolene.

They were moving in a line that would carry them up along the sh.o.r.e, and consequently every minute they drew nearer the small lake steamer that was heading toward them.

Pa.s.sengers could be seen on its deck, and possibly every eye was glued just at that particular moment on the aeroplane that was buzzing go steadily northward; perhaps it might have been the first time some of these people had ever seen such an interesting object; but in the region around Bloomsbury it was by now a common sight, with such enterprising young air pilots as the Bird boys and Percy Carberry in the field almost every decent day.

All at once Frank was heard to utter an exclamation.

"Turn your gla.s.ses straight ahead, and see what that can be fluttering among the bushes at Norton's Point, Andy!" he called out hastily.

When the other had swung around, and covered the region spoken of, he quickly gave the desired information.

"Somebody seems to be shaking a handkerchief or something else white,"

he observed. "And it don't look like just waving at the steamer either, for they do it after a system, as we would signal with wigwag flags.

There, I counted seven times he did it; then comes a halt, and one, two, three times, another halt; and once more he starts in, this time three, four, five, and then stops. Now, what do you suppose the fellow means by that, and who can he be waving to, Frank?"

"You'd expect it might be some one out on the lake; can you see any small boat in sight, Andy; or any one waving back from another point?"

"Not a thing, as far as I can see," replied the boy with the marine gla.s.ses.

"Suppose you try the steamer, then," suggested Frank, meaningly.

Immediately Andy gave an exclamation of astonishment.

"I see a signal moving, Frank, and it seems to be copying the one on sh.o.r.e," he hastened to remark, excitedly.

"Where does it come from, the pa.s.sengers that I saw pushing up against the rail, and staring at us; are any of them interested, do you think?"

continued Frank, who just then could not turn his head to look, but must depend on his chum.

"Well, no," answered Andy, "it seems to come from the pilothouse, and must be Todd Pemberton, himself."

CHAPTER IX

THE PILOT OF THE MERMAID

"So, it's Todd Pemberton, is it?" remarked Frank, "I think it'll pay us to slow down a little, and look into this white rag-waving business."

"Goodness gracious! you can't be thinking that Todd is in touch with the bank robbers, can you, Frank?" Andy exclaimed, astounded, apparently, at the very thought of such a thing.

"Oh! I'm not up to that point of saying anything--yet. But all the same it's what I call interesting, you know," the other replied; and from this Andy could easily guess that while Frank might have notions about the matter, he did not care to commit himself so early in the game.

"Yes, that's so," Andy replied, still having his eyes glued to the binoculars.

"What's doing now?" continued Frank.

"Nothing that I c'n see," replied the other.

"No more white handkerchiefs waving around the point, eh, Andy?"

"Not a blessed thing; and Todd's quit too. Guess they've come to some sort of an understanding. Wish I knew what seven, three, five meant; something pretty interesting, I'll be bound." Andy went on to mutter, half to himself.

"Well, we can only guess, and that's the extent of it," Frank was saying, in a rather serious tone, as though he believed there might be more in connection with the little affair than a mere exchange of civilities.

"How about Todd Pemberton, Frank?" asked the boy with the gla.s.ses.

"Well, you know him as well as I do, perhaps better," returned his cousin.

"I mean, wasn't there once something against him? I know, Frank, that my guardian signed a paper about getting Todd his position with the steamboat company this last spring; they always get him to sign everything going, he's so good-natured and what you call an Easy Mark."

"Yes, they came to my father too, and he put his name down, I remember.

As near as I can say, it was a pet.i.tion to ask the company to give Todd the position of pilot; and stated the belief of all those who signed that he would make good. He used to be a pilot on Lake Sunrise, and before that on one of the Great Lakes."

"But, Frank, why the pet.i.tion, if he was able to fill the place you'd think all he had to do was to make application, and then jump in?"