The Radio Boys with the Revenue Guards Part 10

"You up, old man? Thought I heard voices. Anything the matter?"

"Yes, there is," replied Jack, going to the communicating door. "Tom Barnum, the mechanic-watchman in charge of our radio plant, which isn't far from the Temples' airplane hangar, says the latter is afire.

Frank and Bob already are on the way down, and stopped to warn me."

"Afire?" cried Captain Folsom, leaping from his bed, and reaching for his trousers. "That's bad. Just when we need the airplane, too, to spy on these rascals. Half a minute, old man, and I'll be with you. Not so devilish easy to get into trousers with one arm."

"Can I help you?" proffered Jack. "I'm all fixed. Here, let me lace your shoes."

"Well, if you insist," said Captain Folsom.

As Jack deftly laced up the other's shoes, he said in an anxious tone:

"Do you think, sir, those people set the fire? It would be a catastrophe if the plane burned just at this particular time, wouldn't it? There. All ready."

"Mighty good of you," said Captain Folsom. "Lead on, then, and I'll follow. As to the fire, I'll reserve opinion until I get the facts.

But these liquor smugglers are unscrupulous, and if they feared the airplane was being used against them, they would have no compunctions about burning it."

From the side of the house on which their rooms were located, Jack and his guest were unable to see anything of the fire, as the hangar lay in an opposite direction. But the moment they emerged outdoors, the blaze showed dully against the sky above an intervening grove of trees.

Without wasting breath in further speculation, Jack and Captain Folsom started running for the scene. The hangar stood a considerable distance away, and so fast had they covered the ground that they arrived pretty well blown.

They found the airplane standing like a singed bird on the sands in front of the hangar, and gathered about were Frank and Bob, Tom Barnum, and Old Davey, Mr. Hampton's gardener.

"The wings are gone, Jack," said Bob, turning as his chum approached.

"But, thanks to Tom's rapid work with the extinguisher, the fire did not reach the tank, and the old bus will be able to fly again after she sprouts new wings."

Jack turned his gaze to the hangar. The sides and roof were of corrugated iron. Practically the only wood in the construction was that employed in the skidway. It needed only a glance to tell him the latter had been torn up and piled inside the hangar where it was still smouldering.

"What happened?" he asked.

There were excited answers from all, but presently the story was made clear. Some miscreant apparently had forced open the doors of the hangar, torn up the wooden planks and flooring of the skidway, piled them inside and then set them afire. Probably whoever was guilty employed this method in order to give himself time to escape before the fire should attract attention. He had overlooked, however, the presence of a large tank of chemicals with which to fight fire stored at the rear of the hangar, and Tom Barnum, after telephoning the Temple home, had appeared so quickly at the hangar that, by employing the chemical extinguisher, he had managed to save the airplane from being blown up. Old Davey, a light sleeper, had hurried over from his cottage and the pair were in the act of pushing apart the burning brands in order to wheel out the plane, when Bob and Frank arrived to help them.

"Et's mighty cur'ous," said Old Davey, shaking his head dolefully; "mighty cur'ous, the trouble you boys hev with thet airyplane. D'ye think now et was them Mexicans comin' back?"

"No, Davey," said Jack. "Not this time. Some other set of rascals was responsible."

"What does he mean, may I ask?" inquired Captain Folsom, his curiosity aroused.

Briefly, Jack related to him how the previous summer two representatives of a faction of Mexican bandits engaged in making war on a group of independent oil operators headed by his father in New Mexico, had appeared at the quiet Long Island home, stolen the airplane, and flown with it to Old Mexico where they had employed it in kidnapping Mr. Hampton. The boys, said Jack, not only had effected Mr. Hampton's release but also had recovered the plane, as related in "The Radio Boys On The Mexican Border."

"It's too long a story to be told now, however," he concluded, after giving the above bare outline. "Some other time I'll give you the details if you are interested."

"I certainly am interested," said Captain Folsom, regarding Jack with increased respect. "To think of you boys having done all that!"

"Oh, it was fun," said Jack hastily, embarra.s.sed by the other's praise. "Come on, let's see what the fellows are doing."

The others proved to be engaged in spraying the last of the chemical on the expiring embers of the blaze, and in stamping and beating out the last of the fire. As the light died out, Bob fumbled for and found the switch in the hangar and the electric lights sprang on.

"Whoever did this made a hurried job of it," said he. "I wonder----"

"What?" asked Jack.

"Oh, I was just wondering why the job was left uncompleted? Tom," he added, turning to Tom Barnum; "how big was the blaze when you saw it?"

"Nothin' much," answered the other, his round, good-natured face shining through a fog of pipe smoke. "I was restless. Somethin' I et for dinner, I guess. So I got up to smoke a pipe an' stroll around outside the station a bit, to see if I couldn't get myself sleepy. My room's back o' the power house, ye know. Well, as I come outside I see a light over here. Not much bigger than a flashlight. But it was 2 o'clock in the mornin' an' I knew none o' you could be there. So I thinks either that's fire or some rascal, an' telephoned you, then hustled over here."

"That's it," said Bob. "That explains it. I was wondering why whoever set this fire didn't make a more complete job of it, but I see now.

You probably scared him away."

"Might be," said Tom. "He might a heard me callin' to Old Davey as I run past his cottage."

"Well," said Frank, "let's push the bus inside. She's not much good till we get new wings, but we don't want to leave it out here all night."

All lent a hand, and then as he started to swing shut the doors Bob examined the lock and gave an exclamation.

"Not even broken open," he said, disgustedly. "I must have forgotten to lock up when we left. Good night."

This time, he fastened the lock, and then fell in with his comrades and the party started for their homes.

"Whoever did that wasn't far away," Captain Folsom said, thoughtfully.

"If we had made a search we might have gotten some trace of him. But it is too late now. I imagine, of course, as I said to Mr. Hampton here earlier, that our bootlegger friends set the fire. When they discovered your airplane in their neighborhood, they feared it would interfere with their plans and decided to get rid of it."

"Well, they got rid of it, all right," said Bob, "for to-night, anyhow, as well as for some time come."

They proceeded in gloomy silence for the most part, although the voice of Old Davey, an incorrigible conversationalist, floated back to them from where he led the way with Tom Barnum. Where their courses diverged, the pair waited for them to call "Good nights."

"I say," said Jack suddenly, to his companions as Tom and Old Davey departed; "I have an idea. Let's go over to the radio station, just for luck, and listen in on the ether to see whether we can pick up the interference on the 1,375-meter wave length. Maybe, we can get some of those dots and dashes, too, of which Captain Folsom spoke. It's only a step or two out of our way."

Bob yawned sleepily but stumbled ahead for the station, without a word, and Frank fell in with him. Jack called to Tom Barnum and ran ahead, leaving Captain Folsom to proceed with his chums.

When the others arrived, the door of the station's transmitting room stood open, the lights were turned on, and Jack already was seated at the instrument table, a headpiece clamping the receivers to his ears while he manipulated the tuner.

Bob slumped down on the outside step, and Frank took a seat beside him, with an arm flung over his shoulders. The damage to their airplane was felt keenly by both. Captain Folsom, with a pitying glance at them, entered the station.

"Put on that headpiece," said Jack, motioning.

The other complied.

"By George," he cried, a moment later.

CHAPTER X

A NIGHT EXPEDITION