The biplane made several furious dashes this way and that, as slants of wind caught her extended planes.
[Page [152]]
The Bird Boys; or, Young Sky Pilots’ First Air Voyage.

THE BIRD BOYS

OR
The Young Sky Pilots’ First Air Voyage

By
JOHN LUTHER LANGWORTHY

Chicago
M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY

CANOE AND CAMPFIRE SERIES

Four Books of Woodcraft, and Adventure in the Forest
and on the Water, that every Boy Scout should
have in his Library

By ST. GEORGE RATHBORNE

CANOEMATES IN CANADA; or, Three Boys Afloat on the Saskatchewan.

THE YOUNG FUR-TAKERS; or, Traps and Trails in the Wilderness.

THE HOUSE-BOAT BOYS; or, Drifting Down to the Sunny South.

CHUMS IN DIXIE; or, The Strange Cruise of a Motor Boat.

In these four delightful volumes the author has drawn bountifully from his thirty-five years experience as a true sportsman, and lover of nature, to reveal many of the secrets of the woods, such as all Boy Scouts strive to know. And, besides, each book is replete with stirring adventures among the four-footed denizens, of the wilderness; so that a feast of useful knowledge is served up, with just that class of stirring incidents so eagerly welcomed by all boys with red blood in their veins. For sale wherever books are sold, or sent prepaid for 50 cents each by the publishers.

Copyright, 1912, M. A. Donohue & Co.

CONTENTS

The Bird Boys;

or

The Young Sky Pilots’ First Air Voyage

CHAPTER I.
“BIRDS OF A FEATHER.”

“What are you frowning so much about, Andy?”

“And look at him shake his head, Frank; just for all the world like he’s gone and lost his best friend!”

“Well, perhaps he has fellows,” laughed Frank Bird, promptly. “At any rate, my poor cousin’s heart is nearly broken into flinders, just because he can’t for the life of him remember what he did with that wonderful little tool he invented.”

“Oh! say, is that what it’s all about?” cried Larry Geohegan; “I guess now, you mean the handy aluminum monkey wrench that always kept its jaws locked after you set ’em? Too bad, Andy. Wish you luck in finding it again.”

“Yes, that’s it, fellows!” exclaimed the sorrowful one, quickly. “Tell me, have either of you set eyes on the little jewel since—well, say last Saturday noon?”

“Huh! just why do you go and pick out that day, of all the blessed week?” demanded “Elephant” Small, a boy who had been given this nickname in derision, since he was anything but ponderous; and who at home chanced to be called Fenimore Cooper.

“I’ll tell you,” replied Andy Bird, promptly; “honestly then, because that’s the last time I can remember handling the same. I was tightening up a nut that had come loose on my bike—perhaps you may have seen me do it.”

“Oh! yes,” remarked Larry, the fourth member of the group, “that was the day we took that long spin on our wheels, and Frank cooked us a bully good camp dinner when we rested on the side of Thunder Top mountain, wasn’t it?”

“Sure it was,” responded Andy. “And just before we got ready to start off again I fastened that bolt. Then it was goodbye to my dandy little wrench, that I always expected to make a bushel of money patenting some fine day.”

“Well, I’ve got an idea, and a bright one too!” observed Elephant, calmly.

“Then it’ll be the first you ever had,” declared Larry, derisively.

“Don’t hold your breath till you forget it, Elephant. Let’s hear the wonderful stunt that’s struck you!” suggested the broken-hearted loser, looking interested.

Elephant never hurried. Perhaps after all it was because of his slowness that his name had been changed so radically.

“Why, you see, it occurred to me that the old bald-headed eagle we watched circling around and around that noon, may have dodged down when nobody was looking, and carried the cute little wrench away in his talons.”

This was not a joke on Elephant’s part. He was never known to show genuine humor himself, although his chums frequently found cause for hilarious laughter in some of the numerous suggestions he put forward. But Elephant himself really believed in them all, marvelous though they may have been.

“Well, now that is a clever idea,” observed Frank, always ready to lead the other on, in order to enjoy a laugh. “I tell you, that old king of the upper air must have heard Andy boasting how he meant to follow in his father’s wake, and be an aeronaut for keeps?”

He winked at the others while speaking; but Elephant of course failed to see anything of this side show.

“That’s the ticket!” cried the originator of the idea vigorously, happy in the belief that for once he must have actually hit upon a bright thought; “the measly old pirate just made up his mind that he’d cripple Andy in the start, and stop all work on your wonderful monoplane. No competition allowed, understand, Andy! So he hooked the wrench; and that ties up the whole business.”

“Oh! shucks! You give me a pain, Elephant,” grunted Larry, pretending to double up as a boy might in the green apple season.

“Huh! it’s easy to pick flaws,” sniffed the other, contemptuously. “But if you don’t like my clever thought, Larry Geohegan, just suppose you give us a better one. Now, none of your hedging, but out with it!”

“That’s as simple as falling off a log,” sneered the bantered boy, as he thrust his thumbs into the upper pockets of his coat, and assumed the air of consequence with which he loved to tantalize Elephant.

“Talk’s cheap; do something, can’t you?” demanded his competitor.

“Listen,” said Larry, impressively. “It seems to me that something happened to Andy on last Saturday, P. M. How about that little episode of the quicksand you got stuck in, old fellow? Didn’t we have to run and get a fence rail to pry you out, wheel and all.”

The two Bird cousins exchanged quick looks.

“Now you’re talking, Larry; because that was just what did happen to me, for a dead certainty!” admitted Andy, readily.

“Looks like Larry had struck a warm trail,” ventured Frank, nodding his head encouragingly.

“Hear further, fellows,” the originator of the newest clue went on saying. “I remember right now that after we pried Andy loose, he had to draw himself up by means of the limb of a tree. Also, that he straddled the same limb, so that his head hung down for a little while.”

“Sure. That was when I was trying to get the rope I had tied to my wheel, over the limb, so you could pull her out of the mire,” admitted Andy.

“All right,” remarked Larry. “That was just the time the wrench must have dropped out of your pocket, and went souse in the mud, to sink to China. Some day you may hear of an enterprising pigtail man over there taking out a patent on a nice little wrench, warranted never to slip while you work.”

“Did you see it drop?” demanded the other.

“Nixey, I did not; still, it stands to reason——” began Larry, obstinately.

“Did you hear it drop?” Andy continued, positively.

“Well, seeing that you were shedding gallons of water about that time, not to mention hunks of mud, it wouldn’t be funny if we failed to hear such a little thing fall into the sucker hole,” grumbled Larry, driven to bay, yet not willing to change his mind.

“All the same then,” declared Andy, “I don’t believe it fell into that muck you call a quicksand. I’ve just gone and misplaced it, that’s all. And some minute, when I get my mind on it, I expect to remember what I did with that little beauty.”

“Meanwhile,” remarked his cousin, with a smile, “we can makeshift to get along at our work with the big monkey wrench. After all, it isn’t the tools that really count, but the ability to do things when you’re left high and dry. Hello! Going to leave us, fellows?” as Elephant and Larry stopped at a cross roads.

“I promised to do a job in our yard today, and it’s going to take me the rest of the time to get through,” announced Larry, with a shrug of his shoulders.

“And me to the woodpile for a little more muscle. So-long, boys; and don’t you believe that old bald-headed thief of the air didn’t understand how you meant to snatch his honors away from him. Look to his nest up on Thunder Top for your monkey wrench, Andy.” And Elephant solemnly shook his head as he walked slowly away.

“What shall we do now, Frank?” asked Andy, when they found themselves alone. “Had we better go and tackle a little more work on our machine, while we wait for that cylinder to arrive?”

“You know we can do mighty little now until we install that. And I’ve somehow got a hunch it’s about due to arrive. So what say we meander down to the station and find out?” suggested the other.

“A bully idea; so come along!” declared Andy, usually only too willing to play second fiddle when in the company of his energetic cousin.

Both were healthy looking boys. Frank’s father was the leading doctor in the town of Bloomsbury, which fronted on Sunrise Lake, a sheet of water some seventeen miles in length, and with innumerable coves along its crooked shores.

Because the boy’s mother had died in his infancy with a suddenly developed lung trouble, the worthy doctor had always been unusually solicitous about Frank; and urged upon him the necessity for securing all the outdoor life he could. Nobody else dreamed that Frank looked delicate; but his father saw suspicious signs in every little “bark” he gave utterance to.

The result was that just now Frank was to be kept out of school for a whole year. His father, being a self-made man, had always believed that an education could be more practically attained from observation and travel than by study of books.

Andy, on the other hand, was an orphan. His father had been quite a well known man of science, and a professor in college. Having a leaning toward aeronautics, he finally took up the fascinating pursuit, after his wife died. A year before the time when we make the acquaintance of the boys, he had vanished utterly from the sight of mortal man, having been carried away in a severe gale while in a balloon, crossing over the line of the partly finished Panama canal.

No word had ever come back, and it was of course fully believed that the daring navigator of the upper currents had perished at sea, or in the wilds of that tropical country to the south.

So Andy found himself left in charge of a jolly old gentleman named Colonel Josiah Whympers, mentioned in the will as his guardian. There was ample money in the estate, and every month Andy received many times more than any lad in all Bloomsbury. But he had no bad habits, and spent his money for good purposes; much of it going toward building a monoplane, which he and Frank expected to utilize in taking little flights around the vicinity.

So far as Andy was concerned, he certainly came by his great love for aviation honestly; since his father had been infatuated with the science of flying.

“Besides,” Andy was accustomed to remarking, when any one challenged his wisdom in choosing such a dangerous calling; “A Bird ought to take to the air just as naturally as a duck does to water. My father had to give in to the call of the upper wild; and I just guess I’ve inherited the longing to soar through the clouds from him.”

Andy was a merry lad, with twinkling blue eyes, and full of the joy of living. His cousin Frank happened to be more serious-minded as a rule; and so they made a most congenial pair of chums, who were yet to have their first quarrel.

Colonel Josiah was supposed to be a rather gruff old party; but that was pretty much a blind; for at heart he was the most amiable gentleman within twenty miles of the home town. Andy could just wind him around his little finger. Having become a cripple some years back, the colonel could no longer roam the world, looking on strange sights, as had been his custom all his life. Consequently, he had to take his enjoyment in reading of the exploits of others, and in encouraging the boys of Bloomsbury to become athletes.

At many a hotly contested baseball game the old traveler could be seen waving his crutch and his cane in the air as he rooted loyally for the home team. And when he learned how Andy aspired to follow in the footsteps of his gifted father, with a sturdy intention to conquer the problems of aviation, instead of throwing obstacles in the way, the old man actually applauded his choice, and offered to assist by any reasonable means in his power.

For more than two months now the Bird boys had been industriously at work upon a model of a monoplane fashioned very much after the style of the Bleriot which they had seen do wonderful stunts on the day they traveled down to the trying-out grounds on Long Island.

A great advance had been made in securing a new Kinkaid engine, said to be three times as light as the best hitherto made. Both boys anticipated great things when they had completed their task. Several times they had undone certain parts of the work, to go about it another way that promised better results. And now they only waited for the cylinder which had been sent for, to get their little machine into practical use.

It was far from being a toy. Both boys had gone deeply into the subject. They talked of little else, read everything that came their way, consulted every authority attainable, experimented, and planned their way carefully.

As yet the wonderful monoplane was something of a mystery. It was housed in a long, low building they were pleased to call a “hangar,” and which was kept scrupulously locked at all times, whether the toilers were within or absent. This odd-looking building was situated in a field back of Colonel Whympers’ house, which also belonged to the crippled traveler. And frequently he would limp out to where he could look toward the shack, to talk to himself, nod his head, and smile, as though he expected great things some day when “his boys” had completed their task.

Walking down through the town on this July day, rather cool for the season, the cousins talked as usual of little else save the chances of their flying machine proving all that they expected of it.

“I’m willing to stake my future reputation on her being a hustler from the word go!” declared Andy, energetically, as they drew near the railroad yards.

“And I’m going to risk my precious life on her ability to stay up, once she gets away from the ground. That’s as much as any fellow could say!” echoed Frank; who knew only too well what faithful labor had been put into every part of the monoplane, built for two.

“Don’t I hope we’ll find our cylinder has come to hand, though?” said Andy, as he began to cast his eyes around, to immediately add excitedly: “Look there, that seems to be about the size of the package we’re expecting. Yes, and here’s the name of the aeroplane dealer we wrote to. It’s a cylinder, as sure as you live. Go and hunt up the clerk, Frank, and settle with him. Meantime I’ll be ripping off this cover, so we can carry home the beauty easier.”

So Frank immediately strode away toward the little freight office, to pay the bill, and settle matters. Andy, left alone, started to make use of his knife in cutting away the burlap that had been sewed around the object with heavy twine.

He was just well into this pleasant task, whistling merrily meanwhile, as was his wont, when he heard a hoarse cry of anger from some point close by.

“Hey! hold on there, you! What in thunder are you tearing open my freight for? I’ve got a good notion to have you arrested as a thief!” cried a voice.

And Andy, looking up in startled surprise, saw two figures bearing down under full sail, in whom he recognized his particular detestation, Percy Carberry, backed up by his shadow and crony, “Sandy” Hollingshead.

CHAPTER II.
RIVALS IN THE FIELD.

“Did you ever see such nerve, Puss, in all your life?” gasped Sandy, as the two newcomers brought up alongside the astonished Andy.

“Look at the vandal, would you, ripping the cover off our cylinder just as cool as you please! Hey! Sandy, see anything of the yard watchman around? We ought to have him pinch this thief straight away!” snapped the Carberry boy, as he glared at the stooping figure.

“Ain’t he the bird, though?” went on Sandy, pretending to be surprised in turn; “And as sure as you live, Puss, it’s the tail end of that wonderful Bird combination that’s going to do such stunning stunts one of these fine days. Oh! me! oh! my! What a loss there’ll be when he is shut up in the cooler!”

“Looky here, just explain what right you’ve got cutting open our freight, that’s the ticket!” blustered Percy, shaking his clenched hand in front of Andy’s nose.

“Take that away! I don’t like it. And what the dickens do you mean saying this thing is your freight?” demanded the threatened one, beginning to gain his feet; for he did not just fancy kneeling so close to a fellow like Percy Hollingshead, whose reputation for treachery was well known.

“Because it is our freight. Go back to school and learn to read, you lunkhead!” the other went on, seeming to get more and more angry—because they were two to one, and the freight yard was a usually sequestered place, where no one would be apt to interfere, if so be they chose to administer a drubbing to the offensive investigator.

“But it’s certainly a cylinder for an airship!” declared Andy, casting a quick glance down toward his feet, where the partly uncovered object lay.

“Who said it wasn’t, tell me that? Did you hear either of us whisper anything to that effect?” demanded Percy, aggressively.

“Must think you’ve got just a monopoly of the flying business!” sneered Sandy, puffing out his chest like a pigeon strutting along the barn roof. “Time you woke up and learned a few things, one of which is that with all your bluster and brag the firm of Bird and Bird is soon going to be a back number. Back to the junk heap for yours, Andy. Your name should be spelled Mud!”

“Oh! that’s it, is it!” exclaimed the other, more than a little surprised; for these fellows had up to now kept their intentions secret. “Let me take a peep at the tag then. Didn’t occur to me to think of doing that before, because neither of us ever dreamed that anybody else in Bloomsbury but us could be getting a cylinder for an aeroplane.”

One glance convinced him, for the name of Percy Carberry was plainly printed on the big stout tag.

“Say, I’m sorry about this,” Andy declared instantly. “Wouldn’t have had it happen for a good deal. But you can see how we fell into such a blunder, fellows! I guess no harm has been done. I’ll fasten up this burlap again if you say so.”

It was as manly an apology as any boy would expect, and should have been met in the same frank spirit that it was given. But that was not the Carberry and Hollingshead way. They exchanged looks. Then they laughed sneeringly.

“Listen to the sneak crawl, would you?” exclaimed Sandy, with an expressive and insulting shrug of the shoulders.

“Just the Bird way, always trying to creep out of trouble. Caught in the act, he pretends it was all a mistake. But you don’t pull the wool over our eyes, Andy Bird. We’re on to your curves all right, ain’t we, Sandy?”

“Sure we are. A clear case of professional jealousy. Heard that we were going to have a biplane that would cut circles all around your old top, and just couldn’t resist the temptation to spy on us. Hey! Puss, I wouldn’t put it past him to throw some strong acid on this fine cylinder of ours, so as to make it weak, and bust, some time when we happened to be sailing around up there among the clouds!”

“You’re crazy, that’s what!” burst out the indignant Andy, aroused by this mean taunt and insinuation, as nothing else could have stirred his blood. “Nobody in all Bloomsbury would ever think of such a ridiculous thing but you! Why, your mind’s just crammed with vile tricks like that, Sandy Hollingshead. Now, just put that in your pipe and smoke it!”

The one addressed scowled, and turned a quick, interrogative look toward his companion.

“Hear that, do you, Puss?” he gritted between his teeth. “The sneak wants to pick a fuss with us. It ain’t enough for him to be caught in the act; he tries to holler ‘stop thief’ just like them clever pick-pockets do down in New York, when they snatch a purse and run. What say, ought we to trim him, now that we’ve got the chance?”

Percy looked willing. Indeed, if there was one person in all Bloomsbury whom he would like to thrash better than Andy, it was his cousin, Frank.

Their manner was pugnacious and aggressive as they began to close in on the object of their regard. Andy believed he was in for a peck of trouble. He knew he could never hope to hold his own against the precious pair; and the worst of it all was that he had unwittingly given them a good cause for attacking him, owing to his carelessness in meddling with the wrapper of the steel cylinder before examining the label.

But Andy was game. He had a never-say-die spirit, even if not as clever a fighter as his cousin. No one could ever force him to give up so long as he had a single breath left with which to resist.

So he closed his hands, and assumed an attitude of defense. At this Sandy actually broke out into a roar.

“Look at that, would you, Puss!” he cried. “The beggar means to object to taking his medicine like a little man! All right; we’ll just have to make him open his beak and swallow the bitter pill. You give him the first dose, Puss. I’ll take care he don’t skeedaddle in a hurry!”

“Hold on a minute, fellows,” said Andy, as though striving to gain time.

“What you got to say now, hey?” demanded the Hollingshead boy. “Get it off your system in a big hurry, for we ain’t got any time to waste with you.”

“I’m going to prove what I said, and that we believed this was our cylinder, or else we wouldn’t have touched it,” declared Andy, who had an eye beyond the figure of Sandy, though the other did not realize the fact.

“Are, hey? Well, all I can say is that you’re going to have a mighty big job convincing us you’re innocent. Hurry up!” snarled Percy, anxious to start operations, and wipe out some little matters that burned in his brain, and which had to do with certain defeats in the past at the hand of a Bird boy.

“All right. While I dropped down here to remove this burlap, just to have something to do, and feast my eyes on the lovely cylinder we wanted so much, Frank went to see the yard clerk, and settle the bill.”

“Frank?” exclaimed Percy, uneasily. “Was he along with you?”

“Sure,” sang out Andy, knowing that the anticipated rupture was all off. “And if you turn your wise old head right now you’ll see his well known figure sprinting this way, with the clerk following after him!”

Whereupon the other pair shot a quick glance in the direction indicated; and what they discovered somehow caused them to no longer keep their hands doubled up in that aggressive manner.

“Oh! well, in that case, perhaps there was a mistake made,” Sandy hastened to say; for he saw that Frank was jumping toward them in a fashion that somehow did not appeal to his fancy—for Sandy had more or less knowledge of the excellent manner in which the tall lad could use his fists on occasion, when forced to fight.

“Yes, and next time just be a little more careful how you dig into other people’s things, if you please!” said Percy, also anxious to cast oil on the troubled waters before the other Bird arrived on the scene.

“What’s the matter?” asked Frank as he reached the side of his cousin, and turned a look of contempt on the precious pair.

“Oh!” laughed Andy, carelessly, so lightly did such things affect him, “they were just complaining that I’d gone and meddled with their freight, and didn’t want to accept my humble apologies. But I guess it’s all right now, Frank. Has our cylinder come?”

“Sure, but hasn’t been taken from the car yet. Come, we’ll go with Sam Harrington here, and claim it. He says we can easily carry it home with us.”

Frank never gave the two standing there a single word. He understood how matters had probably been at the time of his opportune arrival.

“They didn’t dare a lay a finger on you, did they, Andy?” he asked, while they walked after the yard clerk toward a certain car near by.

“Well, no,” admitted the other, quickly, “but the storm was just going to break when you showed up. But what do you think of their nerve in getting a biplane ready to show us up? Say, things look like they might be getting warm around old Bloomsbury pretty soon. I can see the time coming when the town will be a regular aviation center, with aerodromes and hangars dotting the landscape. And we’re the pioneers of the great uplift movement!”

“That sounds pretty good—uplift movement when applied to aeroplanes and dirigible balloons is fine! But don’t let your imagination run away with you, Andy. Perhaps we may get dropped out of our aircraft the first shot, and that squash would put a dampener on all flying in this section. Even Percy’s easy going mother will cut off the spending money. And that aviation field you have in your mind’s eye can never crop up.”

“Well, anyway, there’s our cylinder; and just now that’s what ought to interest us more than anything else. A biplane, he said! Think of that, Frank. Just like Puss Carberry to want to outdo everybody else. He knew ours was going to be equipped with a single pair of planes; and of course he falls into the error of believing he can beat us by doubling up. His old game, Frank; but when did it work?”

“Not very often, for a fact,” replied the other, as he bent down to lift one end of the package the clerk pointed out to them.

Presently the freight bill having been settled the two boys walked off bearing between them the precious piece of machinery that was needed to complete their labors of two months. With that placed in its proper position, and several minor things adjusted, they believed the monoplane would be ready for testing.

And what a great day it would be for the Bird boys when they were able to take their first little flight near the ground. Andy thrilled as he talked of the glorious prospect ahead, and now attainable, since the last difficulty seemed to have been smoothed away.

They took their time in walking back to the Whympers place. Several boys whom they chanced to meet, asked questions concerning the time when they expected to try out the new flying machine. But to these the cousins gave noncommittal answers.

“Think we want a crowd of fellows gaping, and bothering right at that critical time?” declared Andy, as they left a group of comrades on the road. “I just can’t get that old story of Darius Green and his flying machine out of my head. Gee! I hope we don’t come a cropper like he did, and smash everything! But here we are at the road that leads down to the field where our hangar stands. Turn in, Frank.”

Passing alongside the garden, they presently struck the gate that opened into the broad field which they expected to use for their circling, once they got the monoplane to working.

“Here, drop her while I find my key,” said Andy, suiting the action to the word. “Three to one it’s up at the house, in my other clothes that I had on last night when we were working here. Ain’t that just a blooming shame now, that a fellow has to sprint all the way there and back?”

“Hold on!” exclaimed Frank, suddenly, and there was that in the tone of his voice to startle his cousin, who stopped still, while in the act of hurrying away.

“What’s the matter?” he demanded. “Did I happen to give you the key now?”

“Not that I remember. But you needn’t run to the house. We can get in without any key this time, I guess,” said Frank, with an angry gleam in his dark eyes.

He pointed to the door, and looking, Andy saw that the staple holding the padlock had been drawn, so that it could be pulled with the slightest effort!

CHAPTER III.
TRYING OUT THE ENGINE.

“Oh! Frank!”

Andy had turned white, and looked weak. A dreadful foreboding seemed to have suddenly seized upon him. It was as though a cold hand had been brought in direct contact with his wildly beating heart, stilling its pulsations.

But Frank was not affected in the same way. His face flushed with anger. They had, as if by mutual consent, lowered their burden to the ground upon making this startling discovery. Frank was therefore free to act; and his first movement was toward throwing open the unfastened double door of the shed, to plunge inside. Whatever there was to discover, Frank meant to know the worst immediately.

There upon the floor was the precious monoplane, so nearly finished that it looked as though it might be ready to start the engine at a minute’s notice.

But there was something wrong about it. Andy had followed his cousin into the place, and his horrified eyes quickly discovered what had been done by the vandal hands of those who had found entrance during the preceding night.

“The planes have been cut into ribbons! Oh! what a shame! All our work just ruined by some sneak and coward! Frank, ain’t it awful?” he exclaimed, clenching his hands in a manner that told of great excitement.

“Hold on,” said the cooler one, raising his hand; “it’s true that the canvas of the planes has been spoiled utterly; but if that was the whole thing I wouldn’t care so much. Let me examine the engine first.”

Eagerly he removed the canvas covering the motor. Andy went and opened the great doors wider, so that he could have an abundance of light. Then, with his heart in his throat, so to speak, Andy hovered near, waiting for the dread verdict.

Presently Frank looked up.

“Oh!” cried the other, as he saw that his cousin was smiling, “tell me nothing vital has happened, Frank! They didn’t dare hurt that little darling Kinkaid engine, did they? No, your beaming face tells me so. Is that all the damage they did?” and he pointed to the cut canvas of the two planes.

Frank nodded his head.

“I can’t find anything more, old fellow,” he said, cheerily, the cloud dissipated from his brow that had a minute before been so threatening.

“But how did that come, d’ye think?” demanded Andy. “Seems to me I can give a right good guess who did this dirty job, even if they covered up their tracks like they always do; but why would they stop at smashing our planes, when they could put our engine on the blink so easy?”

“Well,” observed Frank, thoughtfully, “we happen to know that some people I won’t mention have more than their share of caution. While we mightn’t make much fuss about the planes, if the engine had been tampered with we’d be apt to complain to the chief of Bloomsbury police, Mr. Waller, and have him investigate.”

“But what could have been their object?” Andy complained, as he looked closer at the slashed material covering the framework of the planes.

“Just malicious deviltry, I guess,” replied Frank, gloomily. “They were curious to see what we were doing with our monoplane, and forced the lock last night. Then the temptation was too great to be resisted. They just had to do something to satisfy that craving for ugliness. Besides, don’t you see, it would delay us; and that would allow them to steal some of our thunder.”

“Sure enough,” cried Andy, “I never thought about that. Everybody knows that we expect to give our little trap a trail soon. And what a feather it would be in the cap of Puss and Sandy if, instead of the Bird boys, they sailed over Bloomsbury first! Oh! what schemers they are! Always jealous of everybody else, and wanting everything to come their way!”

“Well, after all, there’s really no damage done,” laughed his cousin.

“Ain’t, eh? How d’ye make that out?” asked Andy, ruefully handling the tattered material of the planes.

“Why,” said Frank, “have you forgotten what we decided about this stuff—that it was a bit too flimsy, and not to be depended on, when a fellow was risking so much? And didn’t I go and order another lot through Spencer’s drygoods store last week? They ought to have it in by tomorrow, or the next day at most; when we can get busy, and cover these wings with canvas that will hold.”

Andy had his turn to laugh, which he did most heartily, as usual.

“What d’ye think of that, now? After all, they only helped us cut the old stuff away, to make ready for the new. Of course, they don’t happen to know about your order. And they think we’ll have to wait a week before we can get anything worth using. And come to think of it, that’s the way the schemes engineered by Puss Carberry generally do turn out. They kick at the wrong end, like a gun that isn’t pushed up against the shoulder. Well, this is a joke on them, after all.”

“All the same, their intentions were bad enough!” declared Frank, sternly.

“Sure they were,” Andy echoed. “In the first place they busted open our locked doors, and looked our machine over. That was treachery of the first water. Then they tried to hold us back, so they could show the town people that the Bird boys weren’t the only smart chaps in Bloomsbury. That was about the way Sandy bragged. And Frank, what d’ye think he accused me of wanting to do?”

“Stealing his freight, you said,” returned the other.

“Huh! worse than that,” grumbled the other. “He declared he believed I meant to throw some acid on their cylinder, so that it would eat in, and make the blooming thing crack, just when they were up in the clouds, boring for altitude.”

“Just like the mean skunk. Those sort of things are always in his mind; and so he suspects others are just as nasty about doing such stunts,” said Frank with an expression of disgust.

“Just about what I told him to his face,” Andy observed, quickly. “And as sure as you live, here’s the evidence of it right before us. Ten to one Sandy slashed these planes with his knife. Wish he’d happened to drop it here; wouldn’t I like to pick it up, and tell him where I found it?”

As he spoke, Andy started to look around the shop. His comrade presently heard him give utterance to a sudden exclamation, as he stooped over.

“Found any knife?” asked Frank, humorously.

“Well, no; not a knife; but I have raised a knave of spades. Look here, neither of us ever had a pack of cards in this shanty, did we? Then what is this doing here, tell me?” and Andy excitedly held up what he had found.

Frank thought enough of it to take the card from his cousin’s hand, and look it over. Then he laughed.

“Same old story,” he said, nodding. “Did Puss Carberry ever try any dodge without having it backfire? Now, I would be willing to take my affidavit that there was no such card lying around loose here yesterday when we worked at our monoplane. So it goes to show that it must have been pulled from the pocket of one of our midnight visitors, perhaps when he was getting out his handkerchief or a knife.”

“But can we prove it on them?” asked Andy, hungrily, as he glanced once more at the cut planes.

“Perhaps we can,” replied Frank, thoughtfully, wrinkling his brow as he reflected. “In the first place, we must try and learn whether either of those fellows own a pack of cards marked on the back like this. You see it is an Indian figure, and underneath are the words ‘The Red Hunter.’ I don’t know for certain, but I’ve got a hunch that Puss brought this pack back with him, when he came from the city last.”

“Yes. Go on,” said Andy, deeply interested.

“All right. Then in some public place, where there are a number of people present, we must make sure Puss has the cards with him; after which we will accuse him, and make him show whether this one card is missing from his pack.”

“Gee! you know how to show up these things all right, Frank!” exclaimed, the delighted Andy. “Suppose you get that brain-box of yours busy on another little mystery we know of now. Honestly, I have a hunch that if you would only try you could discover what became of my darling little monkey wrench. I’m like the baby and the soap you see advertised—I’ll never be happy till I get it.”

“I don’t believe you’ll give me any rest till you do remember where you put that plagued little tool,” declared the other, laughing.

“Hold on, don’t you go to calling it names,” said Andy, aggressively; “because it’s no fault of the wrench that it’s missing. I’m the one to blame, I reckon. But I’ll never give up trying to recollect where I put the thing away so safe that I’ve even forgotten the combination.”

“Yes,” smiled his cousin, “I’ve known people to do that before. Perhaps I may have done it myself. But if it comes to the worst, I suppose you can have a duplicate made that will answer just as well?”

“Oh! I reckon so,” replied Andy. “But think of the time and worry that thing cost me, not to mention the expense. Besides, I just don’t know how we’re ever going to make that first ascent minus that invaluable tool.”

“Well, forget it just now. We’ve sure got all the trouble we want to install this important part of our machine. I’ll drop in at Spencer’s place the first time I’m in town today, and see if the bolt of stuff has arrived. It would be great good luck if I found it had, Andy.”

Throwing off their coats, the two boys got to work. And presently they were as busy as beavers, crawling about the apparently clumsy object which occupied so much of the shed’s interior.

Colonel Whympers had had the place constructed especially for the purpose of furthering their plan. There never was a guardian more indulgent than this old traveler, now reduced to hobbling around with a crutch and cane. And Andy never tired of letting the old chap know how much he appreciated his generous heart.

Of course the structure was flimsily built, as most hangars are, being intended merely as temporary resting places for air craft. Many times Frank and his cousin knew that the town boys had come out of their way to peer through the crack in order to gratify their natural curiosity. But up to now no one had ever attempted to injure anything connected with the monoplane, or its shelter.

Several hours passed away. The engine was now complete, and Frank had even given it a trial spin. The sound of its humming was pleasant music in the ears of these aeroplane boys, for they had a severe case of the up-to-date disease. Andy came by his naturally, inheriting it from his father; but with Frank it was acquired from his reading, backed by a desire to see strange places of the great world, hitherto inaccessible to ordinary travelers.

“Say, that’s great!” cried Andy, as he stood and watched the easy play of the lightest little engine ever invented.

“Works like a charm,” said the proud Frank, standing there, adjusting the automatic oiler, ready to drop a little lubricant wherever the friction came sharpest. “And even now I’ve only got half the power turned on. Tomorrow we’ll place the bicycle wheels under the framework; or if we happen to feel like it, that might be done tonight.”

“Tonight?” echoed the other. “Sounds like you expected to camp out alongside the little charmer.”

Frank turned upon him, and his dark eyes gleamed as he replied.

“And that’s just what we’re going to do, my boy—stick by our machine day and night until we make our first flight. I’d never feel safe in bed after seeing how easy it would be for those savages to injure her. What if they were mean enough to file partly through a wire support of the planes, and we never noticed it? It would hold out till we put extra pressure on it, and that might be five hundred feet up in the air. No, one of us must be here all the time!”

“You’re right, Frank. I’ll bring over blankets from the house, and we can just bunk out here. Won’t be the first time either that we’ve kept house together, not by a long shot. But you figured that card business down fine. Only wish you would turn that genius on the puzzle that’s bothering me.”

“Oh! rats. Suppose you let that thing sleep for a while, Andy. You said yourself you’d be sure to remember some minute what you did with the wrench. Now, let’s figure how we’re going to get any grub while here.”

CHAPTER IV.
A MIDNIGHT ALARM.

“I tell you what,” suggested Andy; “let’s cook our supper here. What’s to hinder, when we’ve got a stove handy, and there’s no great amount of gasolene around? I’m just hungry enough to want to see you throw things about and wrestle with a regular camp dinner. What say, Frank?”

His cousin seemed to reflect.

“Oh! well, I don’t mind,” he presently replied. “Nobody ever knew me to refuse a chance to do my own cooking. But only this once, Andy, remember. We’ll be too busy tomorrow to spend time over a fire. All that will come in time, when we’re off on some of the bully little trips we expect to take, when we get used to piloting our flying machine through the clouds.”

“All right. In the morning we can get breakfast at the house, one at a time, while the other stands guard. After all I guess the only danger is leaving things alone at night. There’s a good moon tonight, too. But since you agree to my game, I’m off to get some grub, and that dandy aluminum camp outfit the colonel gave me on my birthday. Just the chance to break it in. What will I fetch along to eat, Frank?”

“Oh, anything you can grab,” laughed the other, knowing that Andy, being a good feeder, the real difficulty would be in his gathering enough for half a dozen fair meals. “A beefsteak wouldn’t go bad, with some spuds and beans from the garden. And don’t forget the tea, on your life!”

“Listen to him, would you?” jeered Andy, stopping in the doorway to answer. “Why, to hear him talk you’d think he was an old maid. Shall I fetch the cat for you to rub as we sit before the fire? If I had my way it’d be coffee every meal. But I suppose I’ll have to give in like I always do,” and he ran off laughing.

When he came back later he was fairly loaded down with numerous packages, while over his back he seemed to have a little bag thrown.

“Take some of these traps, will you, Frank? That’s the little aluminum cooking outfit in the sack. It nests in a mighty small space, you see, but answers for two persons. But you’ve seen it before and admired it without stint. Just the thing to carry up in an aeroplane, where every ounce of extra weight counts. And I’m pleased to know that you’re going to be the one to take the new shine off my birthday present from the best of guardians, Colonel Josiah Whympers.”

Andy generally pronounced the full name of his guardian. Somehow, he seemed to feel that the old gentleman rather liked to hear it. And besides, it gave an added spice to what he was saying.

Whatever Andy did was right, according to that indulgent party. There might be a limit to his belief in the boy’s capabilities; but if so, it had never as yet been reached.

So, while Frank was once more looking with admiring eyes on the frying pan that could shed its handle, the neat little shiny kettles nesting within each other, the utensils for coffee making, and tea, too, if wanted, not to mention cups and platters, all made of the strongest aluminum, Andy jogged back to the house for another load.

“Here, hold on,” said Frank, looking up when the other had deposited the second assortment of stuff, “d’ye want to swamp us outright? I declare if you haven’t gone and brought out enough for half a dozen already. Look at the steak! How in the dickens are we going to make way with all that, not to speak of cooking it?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you we’re going to have company,” said Andy, wickedly, as he made ready to shoot off again.

“Colonel Josiah Whympers’ coming to join us in our frugal repast?” asked Frank, a look of pleasure on his face.

“Just that. When he heard what we meant to do he got fidgetty at once, and finally threw out such broad hints that I had to ask him to join us. Besides,” added Andy, with a look of what his cousin called “soft sawder,” and which was meant as oil is used to allay friction; “he’s been complaining a good deal lately because he never had a chance to taste your cooking, after me bragging about it so.”

“Ah, get along with you,” laughed Frank, pretending to throw something; “but I say, Andy, while you’re about it just borrow the family frying pan from the cook, because this little one would never do for such a gigantic steak, especially since I see you brought a lot of onions along and want them fried, too.”

“O.K., boss! All shall be done as you order, after being so kind as to not kick over the traces because I’ve invited a guest. But such a guest! They destroyed the pattern after Josiah Whympers was made, I reckon. I’m going to get blankets this turn and that blessed frying pan ditto,” after which he shot off on a run.

Andy did things with a rush, in which he was ever a marvel to his slow friend, Elephant Small, whose failing seemed to be just the other extreme, as he crawled along after the style of a snail.

Frank always carried out everything he attempted well. If he worked at machinery he was conscientious about every trifling bolt and nut. If he played baseball he did it with his whole soul and made as near a success of his work as was possible. And now, when he was elected “chief cook and bottle washer,” as Andy called it, of the supper that was to be prepared, he set about the job just as an experienced cook would have done.

Evening had come. Already the July sun was hovering close to the horizon. The day had been singularly cool for a summer spell, though doubtless it would grow hot again by the morrow.

At any rate it was not a serious task standing over a fire and looking after the various vessels that simmered and bubbled. Then the fine steak was slapped on a pan that had already been well heated, which was Frank’s way of cooking such a delicious morsel. It immediately began throwing off a most appetizing odor that kept Andy groaning and wondering how long he could stand it.

The onions, too, had a scent all their own. And as if this were not enough, Frank, in honor of the expected guest, had allowed Andy to have coffee, so that there was another fragrant smell added to the lot.

Pretty soon a thumping announced that Colonel Josiah had arrived, and Andy jumped up to welcome the old man. He came in, sniffing the air vigorously and manifesting the most intense delight.

“Reminds me of many a scene in my checkered past, lads,” said the old gentleman, who was a smooth-shaven party, with long white hair, and eyes that had not lost the fire of their younger days. “And I’m glad I held off until the feast was nearly ready, because I just couldn’t stand that long. This looks homelike. Glad to be with you, my lads. It was nice of you to ask an old codger like me. Perhaps I can repay you by relating a number of events this reminds me of.”

That was his one weak point. His past had really been so filled with adventures without number that everything served to bring some striking scene to his mind. But boys with red blood in their veins never tire of hearing about such things. And these two lads were built along such lines, for they deemed it a treat whenever they had a chance to listen to his thrilling recitals.

And the colonel never forgot to impress a moral to his tales. Old age was beginning to give him a different view of life from what he may have entertained at the time these scenes he mentioned were being enacted.

They sat there for nearly two hours talking. From his own past experiences the old man deftly turned the conversation in line with their aspirations, and asked many questions concerning what they expected to do when they found they could manage their aeroplane, which he had examined with considerable curiosity, and not a few words of praise.

Finally he announced that he had better be returning to the house. Andy would not let him go alone, though the moon was shining brilliantly.

When he came back later he found his comrade deep in the job of cleaning up.

“Oh, what’s the use doing that tonight?” asked Andy, prone to want to put off things to another day that ought to be done now.

Frank knew his little weakness only too well.

“Not much,” he said, decisively. “We’ll find enough to do in the morning. Here, you get a towel and start in to wiping these things. And with such a dandy outfit I do hope you take a little pride in keeping things clean and bright.”

“Huh!” grunted Andy, “thought that was the best thing about aluminum—that a fellow never needed to clean it up.”

“Listen to him, will you?” laughed his cousin; “perhaps you had a sneaking notion, too, that it might get the spuds peeled and do all sorts of stunts. Make up your mind, my boy, nothing is ever gained without some work. Give that dish another rub while you’re about it, Andy, and then set it back on the stove to warm up. Soon be through here and then, if we feel like it, we can get at those bike wheels that are to go under our framework, according to the design we’re following after.”

Although possibly Andy may have confessed to being somewhat tired, still, the fever was rioting through his veins, and he could not say no, when Frank proposed anything connected with the completion of that wonderful monoplane that haunted his very dreams, so much was it in his mind during his waking hours.

Accordingly they set to work. Frank had arranged his plans and knew just how this thing and that must be managed in order to secure the greatest amount of success.

“Now she looks like the real thing!” declared Andy, enthusiastically, when the little wonder had been duly elevated and fitted with the wheels that were to prove so useful in starting off and in landing.

“Watch how the engine works again in this new position,” said Frank, as with a few deft turns of his hand he set things in motion.

The quick pulsations of the motor thrilled them. Small wonder then that these enthusiastic novices of the air navigation idea could hardly tear themselves away from a contemplation of their prized aeroplane and think of such an ordinary thing as securing some sleep.

“Come, look here, it’s going on midnight,” declared Frank, finally; “and we must get our bunks ready to turn in. I’m going to tumble over on this pile of planks here. Nothing like the soft side of a board for a bed, they say.”

“And since I went and fetched this cot out, thinking you’d accept it, why, sooner than see it lie idle, I’ll dump my blanket in there and curl up. Got the bar across the door, Frank?” asked Andy, as he started to yawn again.

“Sure,” replied the other, “and the little window partly open, to give us air, for it’s close in here. Now turn in and don’t let me hear a yawp from you till morning.”

“Oh, I’ll sleep as sound as a nut; always do. That is, if I don’t get to dreaming something about that darling little——” but as Frank threw a block of wood across the shed and made the speaker duck his head, he did not finish his sentence.

Presently all was quiet within the long shed, save the regular breathing of the two boys. The moonlight sifted in through the open window and lighted up the queer workshop after a fashion, so that the great batlike object occupying so much space could be dimly made out.

Perhaps an hour had gone by. From without there came only such sounds as one might expect to hear on a July night in the country, for the place of Colonel Whympers was outside of Bloomsbury and really surrounded by fields and woods.

Something suddenly aroused Frank. He hardly knew himself what it could have been, but as he sat upright in his blanket he believed he heard loud voices somewhere outside. Then something that seemed to be very heavy came down with a loud impact that awoke even that hard sleeper, Andy.

“What was that?” he exclaimed, sitting bolt upright.

Frank, quick to act, was already out of his warm nest and making a bee line for the window, which happened to be in a quarter that could be reached without his stumbling over the monoplane occupying the middle of the place.

Of course, not to be outdone, Andy tumbled off his cot, climbed to his feet and as the doors happened to be more convenient to him, he was quickly throwing the heavy bar aside. This done, the impulsive Andy rushed straight outside, clad only in his pajamas as he was.

CHAPTER V.
A MESSAGE FROM THE SKY.

When Andy thus wildly rushed out of doors he fell over some object which he did not chance to see. Perhaps in his excitement he even imagined some one had given him a clip alongside the head with a club, for he struck the ground with a bang that must have made him see stars.

“Frank! Frank! Come here, quick!” he shouted.

The other, who had been thrusting his head out of the window of the hangar, immediately made a break for the door. Doubtless he half expected to see his cousin wrestling with some daring intruder, whom he had caught in the act of setting fire to the shed or some such caper.

“Where are you? What’s going on here?”

Calling in this strain Frank arrived in time to see Andy still on his hands and knees just as he had fallen. He seemed to be staring up at the starry heavens as though he had taken a sudden intense interest in the planets of the universe.

“Did you see anything?” he questioned, as he managed to clamber to his feet and clutch hold of the other.

“Not a thing!” came the ready reply; “but it seemed to me I heard shouts. And they seemed to be getting fainter and fainter, as if the fellows were running away.”

“That’s it, Frank, voices that sounded like they were sailing along overhead!” exclaimed Andy, excitedly.

“What’s that?” demanded the other, turning upon him; “overhead, you say? Ginger! Now that you mention it, seems to me there might be something in that. But how could anybody get above us, when there isn’t a single tree in this big field?”

“Frank,” Andy went on, earnestly, “I saw something just disappearing over yonder, where the woods begin to poke up in the east. And I give you my word that was where the voices came from!”

“Disappearing? Do you mean over the tree-tops, Andy?” cried the other, just as if the announcement he listened to nearly took his breath away.

Andy nodded his head several times, while his face, seen in the moonlight, appeared to be covered with an eager grin.

“Yep, went over the tops of those same trees just like a bird—poof! and it was gone. I couldn’t make head or tail out of it, because, you see, I was nearly standing on my own head just then. But it wasn’t a bird, I’ll take my affidavit on that! It sure must have been some sort of flying machine, Frank!”

His listener whistled to express his surprise.

“Here, let’s go and get some clothes on over these zebra stripes,” he suggested. “Then we can come out and look into this thing a little closer.”

In less than three minutes they issued forth again, better able to stand the chilly air of the night.

“Did you hear anything more than the shouts?” asked Andy, as they emerged.

“Why, yes; some sort of racket woke me up. Don’t just know what it was, but I thought somebody might be banging on the side of the shack, and I jumped. I guess that’s what woke you, too,” continued the taller lad.

“But Frank,” declared Andy, impressively, “I couldn’t say for certain, and yet it seemed to me as I lay here, after tumbling over that wooden bucket I forgot to carry indoors, I heard some sort of sounds that made me think of the popping of a little motor!”

“A motor!” cried the other, “and up there in the air, too!”

They stared hard at each other. Some startling thought must have instinctively lodged in each brain, for almost immediately Andy went on sadly, saying:

“Just to think, they’ve beaten us a mile! And after all the talking we’ve gone and done, too. However will we hold our heads up after this?”

“See here, you don’t mean that those fellows have got their biplane rigged up already and are soaring around in the moonlight?” demanded Frank.

“Well,” Andy continued, “it looks like it, don’t it? Something that can fly and carry passengers certainly passed over our hangar just then. And not only that, but they let loose at us, no doubt intending to smash in our roof with a great big dornick.”

“Hold on, you’re jumping too far ahead, Andy. Let’s go slow and not get off the track so easy. If you were on the witness stand could you swear that you saw a biplane just disappearing over the trees yonder?”

“Well, no; perhaps not exactly,” said the other; “but I saw something that was moving along just as neat as you please.”

“Yes, and the moonlight is mighty deceiving, I know,” remarked Frank. “But we’ll say that you did see something, that might have been a flying machine or a cloud. Will you declare that you heard the popping of a motor?”

“I think I did, but perhaps it may have been the blood rushing through my brain, for I came down pretty solid. Still, it wouldn’t surprise me if we learned, after all, that it was a motor in an aeroplane. Then think what they tried to do to us, will you?”

“There you go, Andy. Don’t be a false alarm all your life. We’re going to investigate that same noise presently, when we’ve threshed this other thing dry. It may be that they’ve gone and done it. But if two greenhorns can start up in an aeroplane by moonlight and sail around just as they please, flying must be easier than I ever dreamed of, that’s all.”

Frank did look puzzled. He could not bring himself to believe such a wonderful thing had happened. Knowing both Percy and his crony as he did, he doubted their ability to accomplish the feat in broad daylight, let alone night, with its deceptive moonlight.

And that was why he frowned as he tried to figure the thing out.

“We both heard the big row,” he mused. “Then Andy here declares he saw something floating off above the trees yonder; he can’t say for sure whether it was an airship or a nighthawk. And he kind of thinks he heard something like the crackling of an aeroplane motor! Now, what happened? That’s what we’ve just got to find out.”

He looked around him.

“Yes,” he continued, as if speaking to himself, “I’m nearly sure that crash came from over yonder to the west. It seemed to reach me by way of the window, and that was why I made for that opening in such a hurry. Thought some fellow might be trying to climb in there and had fallen back.”

Again he cast his eyes upward, then slowly described a half circle.

“Andy says it disappeared over that clump of trees, which is almost due east of here. And I thought I heard the crash over at the other side of the shack, making it almost west. Now, that sounds reasonable. If they dropped something, meaning to hit the roof of the hangar, and undershot the mark, it would have fallen to the ground to the west of the building!”

“Yes,” said Andy, who had been listening eagerly, “and you remember, there’s a little pile of lumber lying there, which we meant to use if we had to enlarge the house. It must have struck those boards, Frank!”

“That’s a clever thought,” admitted the other, “and one I didn’t clutch myself. Let’s meander over that way and take a little observation. What say?”

“I’m with you every time,” declared Andy, quickly. “I never could stand having two mysteries bothering me at once. It’s enough to be always wondering where that blessed little monkey wrench could have vanished to.”

“Come on and drop that, if you please. Life is too short to be everlastingly whining about lost opportunities and monkey wrenches and such things,” said Frank, leading off as he spoke.

“Oh, splash! You haven’t got a grain of sentiment about you, Frank. Everything is too practical, according to your way of thinking. Now to my mind, there’s nothing prettier in the world than a cleverly constructed wrench that knows its business and refuses to get out of joint just when you need it to hold most.”

But Frank had declined to listen to his “chaff,” as Andy would have called it himself. Already the other had advanced toward the opposite side of the structure. Here, in the fairly bright moonlight, they could see the pile of planks that had been left in the expectation that the building might have to be enlarged sooner or later.

Straight toward these Frank strode. The nearer he came to the pile the stronger grew his impression that they must be near a plausible solution of the mysterious racket.

“It came from somewhere about here, I should say,” he remarked, as he halted by the heap of boards to glance around.

“Yes, but so far as I can see there’s no big stone lying on top of the pile. Guess after all it was a mistake. We must have dreamed it,” said Andy, ready to give up.

But Frank was very stubborn. Once he had set his mind on a thing it was hard indeed to change him. And somehow he believed more than ever that if they looked close enough they would find the explanation of the queer noise in this quarter.

“Strange!” he muttered, evidently chagrined because he did not seem to discover what he had expected as soon as he had thought would be the case.

“No big stone here, that’s sure!” declared Andy, picking himself up from the ground.

“What was that you stumbled over?” asked his cousin quickly.

“That? Oh, only a bag of sand that swift bunch of masons who laid the foundations of our shack forgot to carry away with them. They’re a punk lot. Might have knocked my nose that time and started the claret to running,” and he gave the object of his disgust a vicious kick with his toe, after which he immediately began a war dance around the spot, for he had quite forgotten that he was wearing a pair of deerskin moccasins just then and had stubbed his toe against the hard contents of the bag.

“What are you giving me?” demanded Frank. “A bag of sand! Why, you know very well those masons never brought their sand in bags. It came in a load and was dumped right over at the other side of the shack.”