The Motor Boys on the Wing: or, Seeking the Airship Treasure. Young Clarence
but he thought better of it, and held his tongue.
“Go on – move!” ordered Mr. Black, as the boys showed no inclination to walk away. “Get a hustle on you!”
By this time Mr. Black had caught sight of the opened tool box. A flash of rage seemed to pass over his face.
“Who opened that box?” he snarled.
“I did,” replied Jerry calmly.
“Did you – did you take anything out?” demanded the man, striding toward our hero.
“I did not,” was the quiet rejoinder.
“Did you dare unlock it?” demanded Mr. Brown.
“It was unlocked, and the cover was partly raised when we got here,” went on Jerry. “We wanted to see what kind of tools you carried, so I opened it. We meant no harm, and I trust we did none. We are sorry you take our harmless investigation in this spirit.”
“Are you sure the box was open?” persisted Mr. Black.
“It was,” declared Jerry, his face flushing at this implied doubt of his word.
“I – I guess I unlocked it, and forgot to close it,” put in Mr. Brown.
“Huh! Mighty careless of you – Jake – I mean James,” said Mr. Black, hastily correcting himself. “Now you fellows clear out,” he went on. “We’s going to make a flight, and we don’t want to be bothered.”
Silently Jerry and his chums left the enclosure. Mr. Black followed, and locked the gate after them. Our heroes returned to the hotel lobby.
“Say, they’re regular fire-eaters,” declared Ned.
“Yes, they get on their ears mighty quick,” said Jerry.
They found the hotel clerk quite disturbed.
“Say, did they make much of a fuss?” he asked anxiously. “They came for the key of the gate directly after you boys left, and I tried to put them off. But they wouldn’t have it, and then I told them some aeroplanists were out looking at their machine. Whew! They ran out as though the sheriff was after them. Did they raise much of a row?”
“Oh, not an awful lot,” said Ned, not wanting to make the good-natured clerk worry any more than was necessary. “I guess it’ll blow over.”
“I hope so,” murmured the hotel man.
The queer aviators did not seem disposed to make any further trouble, for presently a stable man appeared with the gate key, saying that the two men were about to leave in their airship.
“They hadn’t time to come in an’ bring the key,” he explained. “I’m goin’ out an’ see ’em fly.”
The news soon spread around through the hotel that an airship was going up, and a crowd rushed out to see the start. The high fence of the enclosure prevented the ground-maneuvers from being viewed, but presently there was a clatter as the motor started, and soon a bird-like shape arose above the fence.
“There they go!” cried the throng, and our heroes and the others saw the two men seated in their machine mounting rapidly upward.
“I hope we’ve seen the last of ’em – they’re so unpleasant,” remarked Jerry. But he and his chums were destined to meet the two strange men again, and under queer circumstances.
Discussing their encounter with Messrs. Brown and Black, talking of the aeroplane Silver Star, and planning what they would do when they took their own motorship Comet to the coming aviation meet, Jerry and his chums were soon speeding back toward Cresville in their auto.
“Maybe we’ll see Brown and Black at the Colton doings, fellows,” suggested Bob. “They seemed to be on the alert as soon as we mentioned Harmolet.”
“Well, they may be there,” agreed Jerry. “They certainly have a good machine of its class, though I believe ours would beat it in a race.”
“I’m sure of it,” declared Ned, who took great pride in the Comet. “But I can’t get over the queer tools those fellows carried.”
“Me neither,” went on Jerry. “It looked to be a lot of useless weight.”
This gave a new turn to the conversation, and one thing led to another, so that almost before our friends realized it they were near Cresville.
As they approached a turn in the road, they heard behind them frantic tooting of an auto horn, and the loud throbbing of a cut-out muffler.
“Some one’s in a hurry,” observed Jerry, steering over to one side.
“Maybe it’s a doctor on an emergency case,” suggested Bob.
“Doctor nothing!” retorted Ned, after a look to the rear. “It’s Noddy Nixon, and he’s coming on at a terrific clip. Look out Jerry! He’ll do something spiteful just for fun. Keep over.”
“I’m over as far as I dare go,” replied the tall lad. “I don’t want to slide into the ditch,” for the road at this point was bordered by deep marshy gutters on either side. It had rained that morning, and the hollows of the road were filled with muddy water.
On came Noddy, his horn wildly tooting, and his cut-out muffler thundering like a battery of small guns. His machine was increasing its speed every moment.
“He’d better look out on the turn,” said Jerry to his chums, as he slowed up.
With a whizz and a roar the machine of the bully passed the one containing our heroes. This was at a point on the road where there was a big puddle. Into it splashed the big-tired wheels of Noddy’s car, and instantly a shower of dirty water was sprayed all over our friends, drenching them, and soiling their trim car.
“Wow!” yelled Noddy in derision as he passed. “Wow! Look out for me! I’m a terror!”
“You’re a sneaking coward! That’s what you are!” shouted Ned, wiping the muddy drops from his face.
“By Jinks! Look at my clothes!” wailed Bob.
“The sneak!” burst out Jerry. “I’ll fix him for that!”
“Take after him!” urged Ned. “We can beat his car all to pieces! Overtake him, and we’ll haul him out and rub his nose in the mud! The cad!”
“I’ll catch him all right!” declared Jerry grimly. “We’ll get even with him for this, all right.”
It was the work of but an instant to turn on more power, and the speedy car of our motor boys shot ahead down the road after the fast-disappearing vehicle of the bully.
“There! He made the turn!” cried Ned.
“And on two wheels,” murmured Jerry. “He’s taking chances.”
On thundered the pursuing auto. Jerry slowed up at the turn, but even then he took it at such speed that the machine skidded unpleasantly.
Once more they swung out into a straight stretch, and as they did so there came a simultaneous cry of surprise from the three boys.
For there before them, off to one side, and stuck deep in the muddy road-side ditch, was the car of Noddy Nixon. But the bully was not in it, nor was he in sight. He had suddenly disappeared.
CHAPTER IV
NODDY NIXON’S PLIGHT
“What can have happened to him?” asked Ned.
“That’s his auto; isn’t it?” demanded Bob.
“Surely,” answered Jerry. “No mistaking that; but Noddy isn’t in it – that is unless he was knocked unconscious and has slipped under the seat.”
“Let’s look,” proposed Ned. Jerry had brought their own car to a stop, and as the three lads alighted, peering anxiously toward the stalled machine for a sight of the bully, they were startled by hearing a groan of distress.
“What’s that?” cried Bob.
“It