CHAPTER XVI
TRICKED AGAIN!
Nothing else happened that night, but the boys had already had enoughexcitement to keep them awake long past their usual time for turningin. Some of them, indeed, were for starting out in pursuit of the _BigFour_, but Mr. Fulton promptly squelched the plan. There was littlehope of finding the boat in the dense darkness.
Next morning, before breakfast, Sid Walmaly and Dave were sent out on ascouting expedition, but they were not gone long. The _Big Four_ hadbeen found, barely half a mile down, stranded on a sand-bar. A jaggedhole in the side showed where the kidnappers had tried to scuttle thecraft.
After this event, the boys settled to their work in high spirits,undeterred by the fact that the motor was still missing, although Mr.Fulton felt sure it could not have been taken from the island. Philventured to advance a theory, which the boys were inclined to scout butwhich Mr. Fulton finally decided was at least worth the time and effortit would take to try it out.
The men had had no time to carry the motor far, argued Phil. They hadnot gone to their boat, else they could hardly have made their way backto the hangar. They might of course have picked it up after they hadbeen frightened away, but there had been hardly time for that. They hadundoubtedly hidden it in the first place. The easiest place to hide thething was in the river, and the closest trail to the river hit theextreme north end, where there was a steep-sided bay.
"Who's the best swimmer in the crowd?" asked Mr. Fulton. "I don't daretake very many away from the job, but we've got to have the motor."
"Jerry Ring's the best swimmer and diver in Watertown," announced Davewithout hesitation. Mr. Fulton turned inquiringly to the Boy Scouts,but no one answered his questioning look until Phil at last spoke upquietly:
"I'll go along if you need another one."
"I do. You two take the Scout boat and bring her around the point. I'llgo through the woods--be there in half an hour or so, when I get thingsrunning smoothly here. Be careful you don't find the gas-eater before Iget there," he jested.
But it was more than half an hour before Mr. Fulton came upon the twoboys, stripped to their B-V-D's and at that instant resting on thebank. He came up just in time to hear Jerry say: "I used to think Icould dive! Where'd you get onto it?"
"Just Scout stuff," laughed Phil, modestly. "Every Scout in thepatrol's got swimming and diving honors."
"Good!" broke in Mr. Fulton. "Dive me up that motor and I'll get you aspecial honor as a substitute submarine."
"We've worked down from the point, scraping bottom for twenty feetout--that's about as far as they could heave it, we figured. We've justgot to the place where I'd have dived first-off if I had only onechance at it. Here goes for that leather medal," as Phil rose andpoised himself for the plunge.
It was as pretty a dive as one could want to see. He split the waterwith a clean slash, with hardly a bubble. A minute, another, andanother passed, the two on shore watching the surface expectantly. Theybegan to grow worried.
"He's been beating me right along" confessed Jerry. "I can't comewithin a full minute of his ordinary dives. This one is a pippin--therehe blows!"
Spouting like a young whale, Phil broke the water and came ashore inlong reaching strokes.
"I tried my best!" he gasped as he pushed back his hair and rubbed thewater from his eyes. "But I couldn't make it!"
"Better luck next time," encouraged Mr. Fulton. "If you don't find herin two more dives like that, why she isn't in Plum Run, that's all!"
"Find her? I was talking about _lifting_ her. Guess we'll have to get arope on her--she's pretty well down in the mud."
"Hurray!" shouted Jerry, giving his chum a sounding smack on the wetback. "Man the lifeboats! I chucked a rope in the bow of the boat."
Mr. Fulton stood on the bank to mark the line, while the boys pushedthe boat out to where Phil had come up, some twenty feet from shore.Jerry slipped over the side, one end of the rope in his hand. He didnot remain long below.
Clambering in at the stern, he shouted: "Hoist away--she's hooked!"
And there was the motor, clogged with mud, to be sure, but undamaged.Mr. Fulton stepped into the boat and they rowed quickly back to the"dock." While the two boys put on their clothes over their wetunderwear, he hurried back to the workshop to see how things weregoing. A few minutes later they followed with the motor.
They felt, after this fortunate end of the adventure, that Mr. Fultonought once more to be his own cheery self, but a look of gloom seemedto have settled down over his face, and his face looked haggard exceptwhen he was talking to one of the boys. Jerry finally decided to try tocheer him up.
"Luck was sure breaking our way this morning, wasn't it?" he exclaimedcheerfully as the man came up to where Jerry sat, removing the mud fromtheir prize.
"Fine--fine," agreed Mr. Fulton, but without spirit.
"What's the trouble?" demanded Jerry, sympathetically. "Anything elsegone wrong?"
"No--Oh, no."
"You look like the ghost of Mike Clancy's goat. Remember how you alwaysused to be telling Tod and me to grin hardest when we were gettinglicked worst?"
"I sure ought to grin now, then."
"We're not licked--not by a long shot!"
"Yes we are--by about twenty-four hours. While you were gone I got wordfrom the blacksmith. He says he can't possibly have that propellershaft we found was snapped, welded before to-morrow afternoon late. Notif we're to have the other things he promised. He's lost hishelper--quit him cold."
"No!" exclaimed Jerry, his heart sinking at least two feet. Then, withsudden suspicion, "Do you suppose----"
"I _know_ it," interrupted Mr. Fulton. "Our two friends are workingevery scheme they know. Blocking our blacksmithing was one of theireasiest weapons. I'm only surprised they didn't do it before."
"What can we do?"
"Submit gracefully. But I just can't face those two doubters. Firstthey were so enthusiastic and then so suspicious, that I can't besatisfied unless I convince them. But the stuff's all off--and I toldLewis and Harris to come out to-morrow afternoon at three-thirty to seethe _Skyrocket_ make good all my claims!"
"Can't you beg off and get a little more time?"
"They'd be willing enough, I suppose. They don't seem to be in theslightest hurry. But there's that second option that begins operationsafter to-morrow. No, there's no loophole. All we can do is just pegahead, and if the blacksmith comes through sooner than he expects, wemay have a bare chance. I just sent Tod in to lend a hand."
The blacksmith did do better than his word, for Tod came back late inthe afternoon bearing the mended shaft and two smaller parts that wereurgently needed.
It took all the rest of that afternoon to lay the shaft in itsball-bearings and true it up. The propeller was still to be attached,but Mr. Fulton declared he would take no chances with that or with thefinal adjustments in the half light of the growing dusk.
The boys were glad to knock off. They had been working at high tensionfor a long while now and were beginning to feel the strain. They wereall frankly sleepy, too, after the excitement of the night before. As afinal precaution against a repetition of the surprise attack they allslept in the hangar, finding the hard floor an unwelcome change fromtheir leafy beds in camp.
But the night passed quietly. With daybreak they were all astir, butthe time before breakfast was spent in an invigorating swim in thePlum. Elizabeth had done herself proud in the way of pancakes this lastmorning, and the boys did full justice. It was almost eight o'clockbefore anyone returned to the hangar with any intention of working.After barely half an hour there, chiefly spent in polishing andtightening up nuts and draw-buckles, Mr. Fulton drove them alloutdoors. "Chase off and play," he insisted. "Tod and I will give herthe finishing touches; then you can all come back and help us push herout into the sunlight for the final inspection."
But Elizabeth called them before Mr. Fulton was ready for theirservices. Heaping platters of beautifully browned perch testified bothto her s
kill and that of the boys.
"Lunch time already?" exclaimed Mr. Fulton in surprise. "Where's themorning gone to?" But he showed that if he hadn't noted the passage oftime, his stomach had. As he watched the brown pile diminish under Mr.Fulton's vigorous attack, Phil threatened to go back to the river andstart fishing again. "You oughtn't to be eating fish," he joked. "Birdsare more your style. Better let me go out and shoot you a duck--or asparrow; they're more in season."
But Mr. Fulton was at last satisfied, as were all the boys. Hesauntered back at once to the hangar. "Guess you chaps can give me ashoulder now, and we'll take her out to daylight. After that you keepout of the way till the show starts--about four o'clock. All but two ofyou, that is. There's a bearing to grind on the lathe, and a couple ofsets of threads to recut."
Tod could not have been driven away, so Jerry volunteered to be theother helper. The whole troop made easy work of running out the_Skyrocket_. After standing about admiringly a while, they allscattered, some of them, Jerry learned from their conversation, to tryto teach Elizabeth how to catch bass. Jerry grinned to himself at this;he had heard Tod tell of the exploits of this slip of a girl, and noboy in camp could do more with a four-ounce bass rod than she could.
Tod and Jerry went at once at their grinding, and by two o'clock allwas in readiness. Every rod and strut and bolt and screw was in place,tight as a drum. The nickel and brass of the bearings flashed in thesun; the _Skyrocket_ looked fit as a fiddle. There was still a littlegasoline in the gallon can that they had been using for testing themotor, and Tod let it gurgle into the gasoline tank that curved back onthe framework just above the pilot's seat.
"Try her out, dad," he urged.
"I'll try the motor," agreed Mr. Fulton, "but I'm not going up untilthere's somebody around to watch her go through her paces. I've got myshoulder out of splints to-day, but I don't dare use it when there'sany danger of strain. Think you're going to have the nerve to go upwith me, son?"
Jerry opened his eyes wide. This was the first he had heard of any suchplan as _that_.
"Think I'm going to let you go up alone, with a twisted wing that mightgive out?" demanded Tod scornfully. "Huh! I'll take her up alone ifyou'll let me."
"I'll let you fill her up with gas, if you're so ambitious as all that.I see an automobile throwing up the dust on the last hill of the townroad. I expect it's our friends. I'll let one of the boys row me acrossto meet them. Ask Billings, if you can't find the wrench to unscrew thecap of the gasoline reservoir."
Billings proved to be sound asleep, napping off the effects ofover-indulgence in browned perch, so the boys decided to await thereturn of Mr. Fulton, a search of the workshop having failed to revealthe wrench, and none of the Stillsons being big enough to take the bignut that capped the fifty-gallon tank sunk in the ground on the shadynorth side of the hangar. So they sat down beside it and waited for Mr.Fulton to come back with his visitors.
They finally appeared, Lewis and Harris standing about and listening inunenthusiastic silence as Mr. Fulton glowingly explained the whyness ofthe various devices and improvements that made the _Skyrocket_ a realinvention. They did not even venture an occasional question, althoughit was easy to see that they were impressed.
"What are they made of? Wood?" exclaimed Jerry in fierce impatience."Do you know--if it wasn't that we've simply got to beat out thoseother fellows, I'd almost like to see these two sleepies get left. Idon't like them a little bit!"
"Huh! Ask me if I do. They give me the willies. Never did like them,and ever since they acted so nasty about that accident I just plumbhate 'em. You'd think dad was trying to sandbag them or something likethat. Just listen to them grouching around. I'd hate to be a woman andmarried to one of them and have dinner late."
Jerry had seated himself on the top of the reservoir, the cap betweenhis legs. He caught hold of it with his two hands. "It's too blamed badyour dad couldn't hitch up with Uncle Sam!" he exclaimed.
"Yes, and if you believe what the papers say, we're going to need it,too. We might be mixed up in the big war any day."
"Well, I expect we'd better not sit here gassing any longer. Tod, chaseover and ask your dad where that wrench is--unless you've got a notionI can twist this thing off with my hands." He gave a playful tug as ifto carry out his boast.
"Say!" he cried, "what do you know about this!"
"About what?" asked Tod lazily, a dozen feet away on the way to hisfather.
"This," answered Jerry, giving the big cap a twirl with his forefinger."Some careful of your gasoline you people are!" The cap was loose.
"Something funny about that," declared Tod, coming back. "I sawBillings screw that on last time myself--with the wrench."
There _was_ something decidedly funny about it, as it turned out. AtTod's alarmed call Mr. Fulton came on the run. "It's been tamperedwith," was his immediate decision. "Screw on the pump, boys, and forceup a gallon or so, If there isn't water in that gas we're the luckiestfolks alive. I might have known those crooks had a final shot in theirlocker!"
"What's the idea?" asked Mr. Harris, with the first interest he hadshowed.
"Somebody's trying to block the game, that's what!" sputtered Mr.Fulton. "Here, boys, take the canfull in and put it in the shop engine.If she can take it I guess we're worrying for nothing."
For a moment or so it looked as if that were the case; the enginechugged away in its usual steady manner. But once the gasoline was gonethat the boys had been unable to empty out of its tank, it began tokick a little. Within another minute it had stopped dead.
"Show's over," announced Mr. Fulton grimly. "It's way after threeo'clock now, and we can't hope to get a new supply from town this sideof dark. If we just hadn't sent your auto back!"
"You mean to tell us that you cannot go up--that there will be noflight!" cried Mr. Lewis, making up for all his previous lack ofexcitement in one burst of protest. "But, man--it's the last day of theoption."
"It's worse than that," countered Mr. Fulton. "It's the day before thebeginning of a new option, held by the people who watered that gas--andat least a dozen other sneaking tricks."
"But you told us that you would--why, you guaranteed us a trial flight."
"I said you didn't have to buy till you'd seen it work, yes. I'm inyour hands, gentlemen. After midnight to-night I'm in other hands--andyou're going to lose the chance of your lifetime to secure for yourgovernment something that may prove the deciding factor in thatterrific war you're carrying on over there. I'm sure you don't doubt mygood faith."
"Faith! It's performances we want."
"Give me gas and I'll give you a demonstration that can't help butconvince you. I can't use my motor on water. I was willing to risk myneck--and my boy's--by going up and trying this contraption with myleft hand--but I can't accomplish the impossible."
"But surely you don't expect us to buy a pig in a poke----"
"This is no pig--it's a hawk. Will you do this? Will you buy themachine and the idea on approval? I'm pledged. If it isn't sold bynight to you, to-morrow those other people will come with cash inhand----"
"Harris, you know," drawled Mr. Lewis, "I half believe the fellow'strying to flimflam us, you know. How do we know?"
"How do you know!" Mr. Fulton's eyes flashed fire. "I'll have you knowI'm a man of honor."
"Sure--sure," agreed Mr. Harris conciliatingly. "But that's not theidea, old chap. We don't buy this for ourselves, you understand. We'remerely agents, and responsible to our chief. What'd we say if we cameback with a bag of pot metal for our money?"
"What will you say to your conscience when your enemy drops destructiononto your brave countrymen in the trenches from the Fulton Aeroplane?That's what you'd better be asking yourselves."
"But we've got to be cautious."
"Cautious! If you saw the goose that laid the golden egg getting offthe nest, you'd hold the egg up to a candle to see if it was fresh!"
"Well, now, Mr. Fulton----" began Mr. Harris, when he was interruptedby Jerry, who ha
d been holding himself in as long as was humanlypossible.
"Don't let's waste any more time talking, Mr. Fulton. Tod and I havegot a scheme that will pull us out on top yet--even if it does meanhelping these doubters against their will!"
Boy Scouts of the Air on Lost Island Page 16