The Aeroplane Boys on the Wing Part 13

THE "DEVIL-BIRD."

"Yes, Puss Carberry and his crony, Sandy Hollingshead!" declared Frank, positively.

"But, it seems impossible! All these hundreds and hundreds of miles away from old Bloomsbury and Puss Carberry floating over us! Sure I must be dreaming, Frank!" stammered the other, still gaping up at the rapidly pa.s.sing aircraft.

"No, you're just as wideawake as ever you were in all your sweet life,"

said Frank. "Take a better look, Andy; don't you see now that it's the same biplane we raced with the day Sandy dropped that bag of sand, hoping to break our winning streak in the dash for Old Thunder Top?"

"Anyhow it's a ringer for it, I give you my word!" muttered the stunned boy.

Frank, with an exclamation of impatience, sprang forward and s.n.a.t.c.hed something up that had just caught his attention. This proved to be the fine field gla.s.ses that had been brought along on the adventure.

These he clapped to his eye, and as they were already fitted and adapted to his sight, he lost not a second in covering the pa.s.sing aeroplane.

"Look for yourself, my boy!" he cried, handing the binoculars over to Andy, who hastily raised them.

"Well, I declare, that settles it!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed that individual immediately.

"You recognize them, then?" asked Frank.

"It's Puss as sure as thunder. I can see him plain. The other is just out of line, but there's something about his figure that makes me ready to say it's our old friend, Sandy," Andy replied, amazement still gripping him tightly.

"Well," Frank observed, "after all, the only queer thing about it is our glimpsing them so soon. We knew they were headed down this way somewhere, but they made quicker time than our best. And just to think that they're the first to fly an aeroplane along the region of the Magdalena."

"Huh! they beat us up in the air that other time, yet when it came to a showdown, we left 'em at the stake!"

Andy was beginning to recover his breath, and with it came renewed confidence.

"Do you see anything in the actions of Puss that would indicate he had recognized us aboard this boat?" asked Frank, for the other still kept the gla.s.ses glued to his eyes.

"No, I don't," replied Andy, presently. "You see they're awful high right now, and without gla.s.ses they could never make us out down here."

"I guess you're right," was Frank's decision. "Perhaps it's just as well, for there's never any telling what mean trick those fellows have got up their sleeve."

Andy suddenly removed the gla.s.ses and a sudden pallor seemed to cross his face.

"Oh, Frank!" he cried, "you don't believe they'd ever be so wicked as to try and stop us from searching for my father, do you? Bad as Puss Carberry is, I can't just believe he'd ever do that."

"Well, I hope not," returned the other, but there was a trifling vein of doubt in his voice, for he had long ago ceased trying to figure to what depth of depravity those two schemers might descend.

"But where do you suppose they came from right now, Frank?"

"That would be hard to tell," Frank replied. "The first you saw of them they were sailing up over yonder. Then the chances are they have quartered themselves at some town, perhaps on the river, and that this is just their first flight--a sort of look over the country."

"Yes," said Andy, "they're circling right now as though they mean to head back again."

"Well, you can't blame them much," Frank ventured, watching the actions of the aviators above with keenest interest. "Night isn't so very far away, and I should think a fellow would hardly feel like being caught out after dark down here in an airship."

"Well, hardly," Andy smiled. "Curfew must ring for us every time. Fancy dropping plump in the middle of such a jumble of forest as that is yonder, and I bet you it's just cram full of snakes, jaguars and everything else that would want to snuggle up to a poor birdboy dropped out of the clouds. Me for daylight when I go sailing down in this blessed region."

"Look, the men are beginning to recover from their fright," remarked Frank in low tones. "There's old Quito sitting up now and commencing his everlasting jabbering with the others. See him point to the biplane and then to us, Andy."

"Say, the sharp old c.o.o.n is getting a pointer on us. He's telling his chums right now that the thing we've got stored away in the lazerette is just such a big bird as that going away over yonder. Am I right, Frank?"

"You never said a truer thing. But they were certainly a badly rattled crowd for a time. And we can hardly blame the poor fellows, for what could they think but that it was a tremendous bird of prey, looking them over with an eye to grub?"

Frank laughed a little as though the recollection of the fright of the crew would always seem more or less ludicrous.

They sat there and watched until the mysterious biplane had completely disappeared in the hazy distance that marked the coming of evening.

"You don't think then," asked Andy, when it had vanished from view, "that Puss and his biplane could have fallen into the hands of the Colombia authorities and that they're using it for scouting to learn the movements of these ragged revolutionists?"

"No, I don't," was Frank's quick response. "You said you could positively make out Puss at the wheel, and I'm almost sure it was Sandy with him. They must have slipped into the country without giving their secret away. Trust sly Puss for knowing how to do that sort of thing. He never goes around with a bra.s.s band, telling what big things he has on tap."

"That's right. Why, just think, not a soul knew about his old biplane until he had it about done. We were working in the open almost, telling much of our plans, but Puss pretended to be mighty envious and asked questions, when all the time he was meaning to beat us out. Of course, he could get into Colombia without giving his secret away. You don't need to tell me, Frank, you're surprised at that."

"No more I am. But there goes the sun. How quick it seems to drop out of sight down here," Frank remarked.

"Sure," laughed his cousin, "but all the same I fail to hear any bang. You remember the Irish immigrant who heard the sunset gun at a military post in America for the first time and on being told that it denoted sunset, innocently exclaimed, 'Sure, the sun niver goes down in Ould Ireland wid a bang like thot!" But already the dusk is creeping out of the dense woods on to the river. And I'm getting hungry. It must be near supper time. I wonder what the folks up home are doing right now?"

"Just what we are, likely--waiting to hear a welcome sound that will call them in to feed. And there comes little Pepito to blow the conch sh.e.l.l that he uses for a dinner bell. Come, Andy, get a move on you. Another night and then we are going to do business at the old stand. It will be just fine to soar above this strange country and see for miles and miles--mountains, valleys, rivers, tropical forests, and everything that we've never looked down on before."

The two young aviators went into the cabin for supper. They fared very well insofar as food was concerned. Of course, both of them missed the home cookery. The native who attended to this part of the program did his level best to please, and he certainly had plenty to work with. But his Spanish style of serving even the most ordinary dishes of tinned meats with a dash of garlic was beginning to pall upon the taste of the American lads.

Frank had even started to show him other ways of cooking, and they had hopes of converting the cook by slow degrees.

The night was in one sense a repet.i.tion of the preceding one. True, they would not have to consider being halted by a gathering army of the revolutionists, and that was a comfort all around. At the same time Frank deemed it necessary that he and his cousin keep watch. And Andy was perfectly willing to sacrifice some of his personal comfort for the sake of insuring the safety of the precious aeroplane.

It proved just as well that they had so determined. During Frank's second term on guard and somewhere around four o'clock, while darkness covered the land, he thought he caught a glimpse of a shadow crossing the deck, headed in the direction of the lazerette.

He had been lazily reclining on a soft cushion made of several blankets and looking up at the silvery stars, but immediately he became fully aroused. This might mean danger in some shape toward the aeroplane. And no matter, it behooved him to investigate.

So he softly arose to his knees and crept after the shadowy figure.

Cautiously he approached the place where the door belonging to the storeroom was to be found. As he advanced thus he could occasionally catch a peculiar clicking sound, which he believed must be made by some one trying to pick the lock!

The engine of the boat kept up considerable of a racket as it steadily worked along without the dreaded hitch. Besides, there was always more or less splashing of water against the sides, as they pushed against the swift current of the Magdalena. All these things combined to m.u.f.fle the clicking sound frequently, yet during little lulls Frank could catch it again.

The tumult also served to deaden any shuffling he may have made while creeping toward the lazerette door, and for this Frank was thankful.

It was very gloomy here. A hanging lantern some distance away only served to accentuate the gloom apparently. Still, by straining his eyes, Frank believed he could just manage to make out a stooping figure at the door. Yes, he was certain that it had just moved, and now the peculiar clicking was much plainer.

When it stopped he remained perfectly motionless, nor did he again commence his creeping forward progress until it started once more.

Frank no longer had the slightest doubt concerning the cause of that suspicious clicking. One of the crew was endeavoring to force an entrance into the locked lazerette, doubtless with the intention of destroying the valuable aeroplane. He might be in league with the revolutionists and in this way hoped to prevent the government from eventually securing possession of the machine which would put the insurrectos out of the running.

But Frank had conceived another idea. He now believed that his fellow might have been sent by the crew to destroy the "devil-bird," as they undoubtedly considered a contraption that could soar through s.p.a.ce as fast as the fleetest condor.