The Motor Boys on the Wing: or, Seeking the Airship Treasure. Young Clarence
nothing the matter with your digestion,” declared Jerry with a laugh. “But I guess it won’t hurt us to sit around a bit. Who’s got that paper about the aviation meet?”
“Here it is,” replied Bob, passing it to his tall friend.
“I see you are interested in airships,” remarked the hotel clerk, for the lads were talking in front of the desk where they had paid for their meal. “We have other guests here today who are what you call ‘birdmen’ I guess.”
“What, some aviators here?” exclaimed Ned, and he and his two chums showed the interest they felt.
“Who are they?” demanded Jerry. “I didn’t see any one in the dining room that I’ve ever met in a dirigible or aeroplane.”
“Well, perhaps these fellows are amateurs, but they came sailing here all right in one of those air machines – I don’t know enough about ’em to tell whether or not it’s a dirigible balloon or a monoplane,” said the clerk with a laugh. “But they’re here.”
“Who are they?” asked Jerry again.
“Those two dark-complexioned men standing over near the door,” replied the clerk, nodding his head in that direction.
“What? Not Brown and Black?” exclaimed Ned.
“I think those are their names,” went on the clerk, as he looked at the register. “We had quite a crowd here to-day – yes, it’s Brown and Black all right, though I don’t know which is which.”
“Brown and Black,” mused Jerry. “I never heard of their doing any great stunts in a dirigible balloon or aeroplane.”
“No, they’re only amateurs, they told me that when they arrived,” went on the clerk. “They came out from Boston, and are going back soon. It’s a trial flight for them.”
“Where’s their machine?” asked Bob eagerly.
“Yes, could we get a look at it?” put in Jerry.
“I don’t know,” spoke the clerk doubtfully. “They told me they didn’t want to be bothered with a crowd, and they stored their machine in an enclosed lot back of the carriage sheds. There is a high fence all around it, and the gate is locked. But as long as you boys are air navigators yourselves I guess Mr. Brown and Mr. Black won’t mind if I let you look at their machine. They are busy talking now, anyhow, so you can slip out and take a peep at it. Here’s the key to the gate. Go out this back door, down the alley, and open the first gate you come to. Don’t let any one else in.”
The boys eagerly promised, and making sure that the two strange men were deep in a conversation, our friends slipped out of the hotel rear door, Jerry taking the key.
“Who’d ever think those fellows were birdmen?” asked Bob, as they went along.
“No one,” agreed Ned. “There’s something mysterious about them. Why are they so afraid of any one seeing their machine?”
“Give it up,” answered Jerry. “We’ll soon have a peep at it, and perhaps we can tell then. But I don’t blame them for not wanting a lot of farmers crowding around when they’re trying to land or make a flight. You know what trouble we’ve had at times.”
“That’s right,” agreed Ned. “Well, there’s the gate in the fence. Now for a look.”
In the midst of a small enclosure they saw the air machine – a large-sized biplane of an up-to-date model. It took but a glance to disclose this, and with expressions of admiration the boys hurried up to it, to inspect it more carefully.
“Say, that’s a beaut all right!” declared Bob.
“Some class to it,” exclaimed Ned. “Look at that engine! Why it’s almost as powerful as the first one we had.”
“Yes, it’s a good machine – of its kind,” admitted Jerry. “Of course it isn’t like ours, but it’s got a lot of speed and power, I’ll wager. And look at that gasolene tank. Why they could go several hundred miles with one filling.”
“The Silver Star,” read Bob, as he saw the name of the aeroplane painted on one of the side planes, and on the vertical rudder. “Rather a classy name; eh?”
“It sure is a good machine,” went on Jerry, as he took in the various details. “I wonder if those fellows – Brown and Black – made it themselves, or who did? There are some points about it that are worth copying, if they aren’t patented.”
“Let’s ask ’em,” proposed Bob.
Jerry did not answer. He was looking at the double seat of the aeroplane – for it was built to carry two – and near one of the improvised chairs was a small box, evidently for tools.
The cover of the box was partly raised, and with pardonable curiosity Jerry tilted it all the way back. He was anxious to see all the details possible of the machine that had so interested him and his chums.
As he got a glimpse inside the tool box Jerry uttered a half-suppressed cry of astonishment.
“Look here, fellows!” he exclaimed. “See these queer tools? First time I ever knew an aeroplane operator to carry anything like them.”
“What are they?” asked Bob, peering over his chum’s shoulder.
“Why here’s a powerful drill, some lead hammers, another of copper, and a drill, to be attached to an electric light circuit. And here’s some sort of a fusing torch, to melt or fuse a hole through steel. What in the world can they want with these tools in an aeroplane?”
“Maybe they’re afraid of a break-down,” suggested Ned.
“What good would an electric drill or a fusing torch do even if they did get a break-down?” demanded Jerry. “No, there’s something queer here, and – ”
“Hi there! Get away from that machine!”
“Clear out, you fellows! What are you doing there?” interrupted two angry voices, and our heroes looked up to see the two men – Brown and Black – running towards them across the enclosed field.
CHAPTER III
A SUDDEN DISAPPEARANCE
Startled, the boys moved back somewhat from the aeroplane, and waited, not without a little apprehension, the arrival of the two strange men. The strangers increased their speed, and came up on the run, their faces showing the evident anger they felt.
“What – what are you doing at our machine?” panted Black, the taller of the twain.
“Just looking at it,” replied Jerry calmly. “We haven’t done any damage. We’re aviators ourselves.”
“We’ve made lots of flights,” put in Ned.
“And we know enough not to monkey with another man’s apparatus,” added Bob. “We were only looking at it.”
“What right had you to come in here?” demanded Mr. Brown, in surly tones.
“Yes, who let you in?” added his companion.
“The hotel clerk,” answered Jerry, for the key of the gate in his hand was rather incriminating evidence. “He didn’t mean any harm, but we were very much interested when we heard that you had come in a biplane, and we wanted to see what type it was. We saw you were busy talking, so we didn’t bother you. We just came out here to have a look.”
“It was mighty fresh of you!” growled Mr. Black.
“Yes, and we’ll report that hotel clerk, too,” added Mr. Brown. “He had no business to give you the key.”
“Oh, it – it wasn’t altogether his fault,” said Bob, hoping that their friend at the desk would not be blamed.
“We know whose fault it was, all right,” snarled Mr. Black. “Now you fellows clear out of here. We arranged, when we put up at the hotel, that we shouldn’t be annoyed by snooping crowds, and now – ”
“We’re