Read The Boy Aviators in Record Flight; Or, The Rival Aeroplane Page 16


  CHAPTER XVI.

  THE AUTO GONE.

  "Harry!"

  "What is it, Frank?"

  "Get on your clothes. You, too, Bart Witherbee, and be sure to concealthe map of your mine carefully."

  "What be yer goin' ter do, Frank?"

  "Fool those rascals. There is no doubt they are going to the stable andtry to disable our aeroplane."

  "I reckon we'll fool 'em, Frank."

  "I hope so. We must make haste. Come on out through this window here. Itleads onto a back porch. We can slip down a support without anyoneseeing us and get round to the stable before they get up from theirtable. They'll be in no hurry, for they think we're asleep."

  "What are we to do, Frank?" asked Billy Barnes and Lathrop, who, withold Mr. Joyce, were evidently to be left behind.

  "Just snore as loud as ever you can. There is no doubt that they willcreep up here after a while to see if we are asleep. If they hear yousnoring they will think everything is all right."

  Frank, Harry and their hard companion were soon out of the window and onthe ground. They found themselves on a back street, or rather, a meretrail on the prairie, for the town consisted of but a single street.They rapidly made their way to the livery stable. The man who owned itwas there, and at first was inclined to be angry at being awakened.

  He appeared at his door with a gun.

  "Git out of here, you no good drunken cattle rustlers," he bellowed, "orI'll fill you full of lead. Don't come skylarking around me."

  "We are not cattle rustlers. We're the boys who own that aeroplane,"explained Frank. "We heard to-night, or rather we overheard, a plot todamage it so that it could not win the race."

  "What's that?" demanded the other, "some no good, ornery cussesundertook ter come roun't here and do up that thar contraption ofyourn?"

  "That's it."

  "Wall, I don't know as I'd blame anyone fer wantin' ter bust up suchthings. Hosses air good enough fer us out here in the west, but nobodyain't goin' to hurt nothin' of nobody's while it's under my care. Comeon in an' tell me about it."

  The boys' story was soon told. When it was concluded the stable man wasmad clear through.

  "What, that hobo of a Wild Bill Jenkins, as he calls his self, comearoun' here and try monkey tricks in my barn? Not much," he keptrepeating. "Hev you boys got shootin'-irons?"

  "We shore have," replied old Bart Witherbee.

  "Well, you at least look like a party as could use one," remarked thestable man, gazing at Bart's rugged face. "Now the only thing to do isto wait for them to come."

  "That's it, I guess," agreed Frank. "They can't be so very long if theywant to get away before daylight."

  But the boys little knew the ingenious plan that the rogues had decidedon to compass their ends and destroy the _Golden Eagle_. Even while theysat there waiting Luther Barr and the others were working out theirscheme.

  Before long there was the distant chug-chug of an auto heard and as themachine drove away, the sound diminished till it died out.

  "Well, I guess your friends decided that they'd put their littleexpedition off," grinned the stable keeper. "There they go and goodriddance to 'em, I say."

  They waited a while longer, but there was no demonstration of theirenemies' presence. Suddenly Frank sniffed curiously.

  "Do you smell anything?" he asked presently. "It seems to me there'ssomething burning somewhere."

  "I noticed it, too," said Harry.

  At the same instant there was a glare of red flame from the rear of thestable.

  "Fire!" shouted the stableman.

  His cry rang through the night, and in a few seconds the small prairietown was ringing with it. The flames gained rapid headway. They atethrough the sun-dried timbers of the stable as if it had been made ofpaper.

  The stableman and his friends rushed madly about getting out horses andrigs to places of safety. As for the boys and Bart they seized hold ofthe aeroplane and dragged it beyond reach of the flames. They then ranout the auto. This done they returned and helped the stableman. Soon allthe stock and valuable buggies were out of the place and it was aroaring mass of savage flames. There was no fire department in Gitalong,so the inhabitants, instead of wasting their efforts on trying toextinguish the blaze with buckets of water, devoted their attention towetting down adjoining roofs in order to prevent the flames spreading.The boys were so busy attending to this work that they didn't stop tonotice what had become of their companions. They had had, however, amoment to exchange a hasty word with Billy, Lathrop and old man Joyce,who had hastened from the hotel at the first cry of alarm.

  The flames were about out and the barn was reduced to a smouldering heapof ashes before they had time to look about them.

  "Why, where's Mr. Joyce?" suddenly exclaimed Bart.

  "He was here a minute ago," rejoined Frank. "Have you seen him, Billy?"

  "Not for the last ten minutes," replied the other. "What can have becomeof him?"

  "I guess he got tired and went back to the hotel," suggested Harry.

  "That must be it. Come on, let's go and see if he is all right."

  They started off, but on the way were halted by the stableman.

  "Thank you, boys, for helping me!" he exclaimed warmly, extending hishand. "It was mighty white of you."

  "I hope your loss was not very heavy," said Frank.

  "Oh, no; I had that covered by insurance. A good thing I had, too. Ifever I get my hands on that rascal, Wild Bill Jenkins, I'll make it hotfor him."

  "Why; do you suspect him of setting it?"

  "Not only him but your friends--or whatever you like to call 'em. Thescalliwags suspected we might be on the lookout for 'em, and so we were,but at the wrong door. While we were expecting 'em to come sneaking upin front they walks up behind and sets a fire. They'd fix your aeroplaneforever and a day, they thought, and as for my barn they didn't botherabout that."

  "That must be it," exclaimed Frank. "I'd like to get my hands on therascals."

  "Let's drive after them and have them arrested at Pintoville. We caneasily do it," suggested Billy.

  "All right, you and Bart take the auto. I've got to find Mr. Joyce."

  "_Where is the auto?_" suddenly exclaimed Harry, looking about him. "Itwas here while we were working at the fire and now it's gone."

  "Gone!" gasped the others.

  "Yes, gone. Look, there's not a sign of it."

  "That's right," said the stableman; "looks like that chu-chu cart hadflown away. Wall, if it's in this town it won't take long to find it."

  The stableman, who the boys now found out was also mayor, at onceordered out several men with instructions to search for the missing car,but they all reported half an hour later, when the town had beenthoroughly searched, that not a trace of it could be found.

  In the meantime a search had been conducted for old Mr. Joyce, but healso had vanished as mysteriously as the auto.

  "What can have become of them?" exclaimed Frank, despairingly. "Withoutthe auto and our supplies we cannot go any further."

  At this juncture a man came rushing up with a report that searchers hadfound the tracks of two autos, both going out of the town over thePintoville road.

  "Pintoville is where Luther Barr is staying," cried Frank.

  "Then you can depend upon it," rejoined their friend, the mayor, "thatthat is where your auto and the old man have gone."

  "But why should they want to kidnap old Mr. Joyce?" demanded Frank.

  "You'll have to ask me an easy one," answered the mayor, picking up astraw and sucking it with deep meditation.