CHAPTER XII--TRACED DOWN
"Be careful, Mr. Parks!"
"Foh goodness sake, sah! Yo want to break dat arm ober again?"
Mr. Morse, the inventor, and Scipio, the cook, made a frantic rush forthe aeronaut. They were grouped together in the center of the spaceoccupied by their camp. The eyes of each had been fixed on an objectfloating about in the air over-head. All had been pleased and excited,but particularly Parks. Now as the object aloft made a skim that seemedto beat a mile a minute dash, John Parks lost all control of himself.
He forgot the fractured arm he had carried in a sling for three days,and actually tried to wave it, as he burst forth:
"Morse, you're a genius, and that boy, Andy Nelson, is the birdman ofthe century!"
Andy deserved the praise fully that was being bestowed upon him. Thatmorning Mr. Morse had completed the _Racing Star_, his new airship. Atthe present moment it was making its initial flight.
The relieved, contented face of Morse showed his satisfaction over thefact that his work was done and done well. Scipio stared goggle-eyed. Asto John Parks, expert sky sailor that he was, his practiced eye in onemoment had discerned the fact that the _Racing Star_ was the latest andbest thing out in aviation, and he went fairly wild over the masterlyway in which Andy handled the machine.
Andy aloft, had eye, nerve and breath strained to test the splendiddevice to its complete capacity. He was himself amazed at the beauty theutility of the dainty creation just turned out from the workshop. Whatthe Airship King had taught him Andy had not forgotten. After fiveminutes spent in exploiting every angle of skill he possessed, Andybrought the superb aeroplane down to the ground, graceful as a swan.John Parks ran up to him, chuckling with delight.
"You wonder! you daisy!" he roared, shaking Andy's hand with his wellarm.
Andy was flushed with triumph and excitement.
"If there's any wonder to talk about," he said, "it's that gloriouspiece of work, the _Racing Star_, and the splendid man who made it."
Morse smiled, a rare thing for him. Then he said modestly:
"It will do the work, handled as you manage it, Andy."
"I feel like a caged lion, or an eagle with its wings clipped!" stormedParks, with a glance at his bandaged arm. "Why did I go trying to show abungling amateur how to run an old wreck of a monoplane, and get my armbroken for my pains, and lose that five-thousand-dollar prize!"
"There is time to enter a substitute, Mr. Parks," suggested theinventor.
"Who?" demanded the aeronaut scornfully. "Some amateur who will sell meout or bungle the race, and maybe smash up my last thousand dollars?"
"Mr. Parks," said Andy, in a quick breath, and colored up and pausedsuddenly. "I'd be glad to try it. Say the word, and I'll train day andnight for the race."
"Andy, win it, and half of that five thousand dollars is yours."
From excitement and incoherency, the little group got down to a seriousdiscussion of the situation during the next half hour.
"It's just one week from the race," said Andy. "What can't I do inlearning to run the _Racing Star_ in that time?"
"Andy, you must make it," declared Parks energetically. "It just seemsas if my heart would break if we lost this record."
Mr. Morse got out a chart he had drawn of the run to be made on thetwenty-first of the month.
"The course is very nearly a straight one," explained Parks; "from thegrounds here to Springfield, where the State fair is going on. Pace willbe set by a Central Northern train, carrying assistants and repairs. Thefleet will be directed by a large American flag floating from the rearof the train. It's almost a beeline, Andy, and the _Racing Star_ isbuilt for speed."
They made another ascent the next morning. Air and breeze conditionswere most favorable for the try-out. Seated amidships, wearing a leatherjacket, cap and gloves, Andy had the motor keyed up to its highestspeed. The quick sequence of its exhaust swelled like a rapid-fire gun.
The machine rolled forward, the propellers beat the air, and the _RacingStar_ rose on a smooth parabola. Andy attempted some volplane skits thatwere fairly hair-raising. He raced with real birds. He practiced withthe wind checks. For half an hour he kept up a series of practice stuntsof the most difficult character.
"Oh, but you're a crack scholar, Andy Nelson," declared the delightedParks, as the _Racing Star_ came to moorings again, light as a feather.
"I think myself I am getting on to most of the curves," said Andy. "Theonly question is can I keep it up on a long stretch?"
"Practice makes perfect, you know," suggested Mr. Morse.
Andy felt that he had about reached the acme of his mechanical ambition.When he went to bed that night the thought of the coming race kept himawake till midnight. When he finally went to sleep, it was to dream ofaerial flights that resolved themselves into a series of the mostexciting nightmares.
No developments came from Andy's experience with the Duske crowd. Oncein a while he worried some over the reference of Duske's companions toseeing his name in the newspapers.
"Either it was about my trouble at Princeville, or some of thesereporters writing up the race got my name incidentally," decided Andy.
"Anyhow, I can't afford to trouble about it."
Andy rarely ventured away from the camp after dark. In fact, ever sinceentering the employment of Mr. Parks he had not mixed much withoutsiders. He had his Princeville friends and the Duske crowd constantlyin mind. But one hot evening he went forth for some ice cream for thecrowd.
The distance to a town restaurant was not great. Andy hurried across thefreight tracks. Just as he passed a switchman's shanty, he fancied heheard some one utter a slight cry of surprise. Two persons dodged backout of the light of a switch lantern. Andy, however, paid littleattention to the episode. He reached the restaurant, got the ice creamin a pasteboard box, and started back for the camp without any mishap oradventure.
Just as Andy crossed a patch of ground covered with high rank weeds, hebecame aware that somebody was following him. A swift backward glancerevealed two slouching figures. They pressed forward as Andy momentarilyhalted.
"Now then!" spoke one of them suddenly.
Andy dodged as something was thrown towards him, but not in time toavoid a looped rope. It was handled deftly, for before he knew it hishands were bound tightly to his side.
One of the twain ran at him and tripped him up. The other twined theloose line about Andy's ankles.
"Got him!" sounded a triumphant voice.
"Good business," chirped his companion, and then Andy thrilled in somedismay, as he recognized his captors as Gus Talbot and Dale Billings.
"Hello, Andy Nelson," said Gus Talbot.
Gus's voice was sneering and offensive as he hailed the captive. Hiscompanion looked satisfied and triumphant as he stood over Andy, as ifhe expected their victim to applaud him for doing something particularlysmart.
"See here, Gus," observed Dale, "I'd better get, hey?"
"Right off, too," responded Gus. "If there's the ready cash in it, allright. If there isn't we'll get him on the way to Princeville ourselvessome way."
"Can you manage him alone?"
"I'll try to," observed Gus vauntingly, "I'll just have a pleasantlittle chat with him for the sake of old times, while I sample this icecream of his--um-um--it ought to be prime."
Dale sped away on some mysterious errand. Gus picked up the box of icecream that Andy had dropped and opened it. He tore off one of itspasteboard flaps, fashioned it into an impromptu spoon, and proceeded tofill his mouth with the cream.
"Don't you get up," he warned Andy. "If you do, I'll knock you downagain."
"Big Injun, aren't you!" flared out Andy, provoked andindignant--"especially where you've got a fellow whipsawed?"
"Betcher life," sneered Gus maliciously. "Things worked to a charm. Gota hint from some airship fellows that you was somewhere around thesediggings. Watched out for you and caught you just right, hey?"
The speaker sat down among
the weeds in front of Andy. The latternoticed that his face was grimed and his hands stained with dirt. Hisclothes were wrinkled and disordered as if he had been sleeping in them.From what he observed, Andy decided that the son of the Princevillegarage owner and his companion were on a tramp. They looked likerunaways, and did not appear to be at all prosperous.
"Say," blurted out Gus, digging down into the ice cream, as if he washungry, "you might better have turned up that two hundred dollars fordad."
"Why had I?" demanded Andy.
"It would have saved you a good deal of trouble. It's a stroke of luck,running across you just as we'd spent our last dime. How will you liketo go back to Princeville and face the music?"
"What music?"
"Oh, yes, you don't know! Haven't read the papers, I suppose? Didn'tknow you was wanted?"
"Who wants me?"
"Nor that a reward was out for you?"
"Why?"
"Say, are you so innocent as all that, or just plain slick?" drawledGus, with a crafty grin.
"I don't know what you are talking about."
"Farmer Jones' barn."
"Oh----" Andy gave a start. He began to understand now. "What about FarmerJones' barn?"
"You know, I guess. It was set on fire and burned down. They have beenlooking everywhere for the firebug, and offer a fifty-dollar reward."
"Is that the reason why you and Dale have left Princeville?" demandedAndy coolly.
"Eh, well, I guess not," cried Gus. "Huh! Everybody knows how you did itout of spite against Jones because he hindered you running away fromdad. Why, they found your cap right near the barn ruins."
"Is that so?" said Andy quietly. "How did it get there?"
"How did it get there? You dropped it there, of course."
"Purposely to get blamed for it, I suppose?" commented Andy. "That'spretty thin, Gus Talbot, seeing that you know and your father knows thatmy cap was taken away from me when he locked me up at the garage, and Ihad no chance to get it later. You left the cap near the burned barn,Gus Talbot, and you know it."
"Me? Rot!" ejaculated Gus, but he stopped eating the ice cream and actedrestless.
"In fact," continued Andy definitely, "I can prove that both you andDale were sneaking about the Jones' place a short time before the firebroke out."
"Bosh!" mumbled Gus.
"Further than that, I can tell you word for word what passed between youtwo. Listen."
Andy remembered clearly every incident of his flight from the haystackin Farmer Jones' field. He recited graphically the appearance of Gus andDale, and the remark he had overheard. Gus sat staring at him in anuneasy way. He acted bored, and seemed at a loss to answer.
It was more than half an hour before Dale returned. He acted glum andmad.
"Is it all right?" inquired Gus eagerly.
"Right nothing!"
"Get the money?"
"No."
"What's the trouble?"
"I saw a constable and told him I could give him a chance to make afifty-dollar reward, us to get ten. He heard me through and said itwouldn't do."
"Why wouldn't it?" demanded Gus.
"Because this is in another county, and he'd have to get the warrant.Said it was too much trouble to bother with it."
"Humph! what will we do now?" muttered Gus in a disgusted way.
"That's easy. Get Andy over the county line, and find someone else totake the job off our hands," replied Dale Billings.
Airship Andy; Or, The Luck of a Brave Boy Page 12
