CHAPTER VI.
NED INVENTS SOMETHING.
"What are you so busy over, my lad?" inquired Lieutenant De Frees onemorning, stopping in front of the Dreadnought Boys' hangar.
Ned looked up from the sheet of paper over which he had been poring. Itwas covered with figures and geometrical scrawlings made by a stumpylead pencil.
The lad was a bit abashed. Herc was busy tuning up his aeroplane, andNed, by this time, should have been busy on his machine, for it was aclear, calm day, ideal for a flight. But Ned had not yet even donnedhis aviation togs. Instead, he had been putting in the best part of anhour on his figuring, bending over it with a puckered brow. A momentbefore the officer had poked his head in at the door, the boy hadstarted up with a glad cry:
"Herc, I've got it!"
"Catching?" inquired Herc, as he tightened the turnbuckle of a slackstay-wire.
"I hope so," laughed Ned. "I hope it proves catching enough for UncleSam to adopt. You see, an aeroplane fitted with pontoons----"
"Oh, choke it off. I've heard it all a hundred times," began Herc, andthen, dropping his bantering expression, the freckled lad went on:
"It's a great thing, Ned, not a doubt of it. But are you sure you'vegot it at last?"
"Certain sure," smiled Ned confidently; "it was to attain cubiccapacity, combined with strength and lightness, that bothered me. But Ithink I've figured it out now so that it will work."
So saying, he had resumed his calculations and had been engaged on thembut a few seconds when the interruption occurred.
"Why, it's an idea I've been working out for some time, sir," saidNed modestly, in reply to the officer's question. "I'd rather like tohave your opinion on it, sir, if it isn't too much to ask. You see,it's a scheme to attach pontoons to an aeroplane, making the machinepracticable for both air and water. Inasmuch as our experiments are toselect a naval type, it seemed to me that----"
"A machine that could fly and swim, too, if necessary, would be a greatthing," broke in the officer enthusiastically. "Well, my boy, if youreally have such an idea in practicable shape, I think I can encourageyou to hope great things for it. Any one of a hundred manufacturerswould be willing to buy your secret and pay you well for it, too."
Ned flushed. A flicker of something akin to indignation crossed hisface.
"If it's any good, sir," he said quietly, "I intended that our navyshould have it."
The officer brought down his hand with a hearty slap on Ned's broadshoulder.
"Good for you," he said. "I spoke as I did to test your motives inworking on this invention, and I am not disappointed in you. If youwill visit me at my quarters to-night, we'll talk more of the matter."
"Thank you, sir," rejoined Ned, flushing gratefully, and his eyesshining, "at what time, sir?"
"About nine o'clock. I've some friends coming over this evening andshall not be at liberty before that time."
Ned saluted, and Herc likewise clicked his heels together and raisedhis hand, as the officer left the hangar to resume his morning tour ofinspection.
The tall form of their superior had hardly vanished from the doorwaybefore Herc, who had turned to search for some tool, gave a suddensharp outcry.
There was a small window, high up in the rear of the shed, which hadbeen left open for ventilation. As Herc turned, he was as certain as hewas that it was daylight, that he had seen a face vanish quickly fromthe casement. Its owner had evidently dropped from the opening throughwhich he had chosen to spy on the Dreadnought Boys.
"What's up, Herc?" asked Ned, as he caught his chum's smotheredexclamation.
"Why--why," exclaimed Herc, "I could be almost certain that I saw theface of Chance vanish from that window as I turned round."
"Eavesdropping, eh?"
"Looks like it. I guess he saw Lieutenant De Frees come in here andremain longer than ordinarily. It must have aroused their curiosity."
"What do you mean by 'they'?"
"Merritt and Chance, of course. You know how much love they bear us. Iguess they felt afraid we were stealing a march of some kind on them.
"It's a mean trick!" continued Herc. "If I'd only caught him beforeI'd--I'd have bust his face."
"Let's go round to the back of the shed. We can soon find out if anyonewas really there, or if your imagination played you a trick."
Herc readily agreed. He was fairly boiling with anger. But, oninvestigation, the fresh paint at the rear of the shed proved not to bescratched, as must have been the case had any one clambered up to thewindow.
"Looks to me as if you're seeing things," teased Ned.
"Does look rather like it," confessed Herc. "It seems as if--hullo,what--what's that? I guess that's how he reached the window withoutscratching the paint."
He pointed to a short ladder, evidently left behind by the workmenwho had fitted up the hangars. It lay in some tall grass, a shortdistance from where the Dreadnought Boys stood. A hasty attempt seemedto have been made to hide it, but if this had been the case, it wasunsuccessful.
"Just as I thought," declared Herc, after a minute. "The grass here isfreshly trampled by the chap who threw the ladder back."
Ned was silent a minute. Then he spoke.
"I wonder how much they overheard?" he said slowly.
"All our conversation, I guess, if they arrived in time. Why?"
"Because I wanted to keep my pontoon idea secret till I'd tried it out.It isn't exactly for general publication--yet."
Herc seemed to catch a deeper meaning in the words.
"You're thinking of that chap who's been snooping around here for thelast week posing as a newspaper photographer?" he asked quickly.
"Yes. I'm convinced, somehow, that he is nothing of the sort. Forone thing, he's far too curious about the mechanical details ofthe aeroplanes, and the results of the experiments so far as we'veconducted them. Another thing is, that he seems unusually well suppliedwith money, and he also appears to be a man of far greater ability thanhis supposed job would indicate."
"Gee whillakers!" gasped Herc. "You're not after thinking he's aforeign spy?"
"That's just what I am," rejoined Ned firmly.
"He won't get much information here."
"Not if he depended on most of us for it. But there's Chance andMerritt. It's a mean thing to say, Herc, but I wouldn't trust thosefellows any farther than I could see them, and not so far as that."
"We-el!" whistled Herc, with huge assumed surprise, "you don't say so?I was always under the delusion that they were honest, above-boardsports, who wouldn't do a mean thing for all the wealth on Wall Street."
But just then the assembly bugle rang out sharply, summoning the aerosquad to its labors. The lads hastened to get their machines out onthe field. As they trundled them forth, assisted by some of the menemployed about the grounds for such jobs, Ned's machine almost collidedwith a short, rather thick-set man, with a huge pair of moustachesand luxuriant blonde hair. The latter hung in a tangle from under abattered derby hat. The rest of the man's garments were in keepingwith his disreputable head-gear. They consisted of a long, and verygreasy-looking frock coat, a pair of checked trousers, badly frayed atthe bottoms, broken boots and a soiled shirt and collar.
Sigmund Muller, free-lance photographer, bore anindescribable air of being something other than he pretended to be.]
Over his back was strapped a black leather box, which evidentlycontained a camera, for under his arm he bore a folded tripod. But,despite his disreputable appearance, Sigmund Muller, free-lancephotographer, as he termed himself, bore an indescribable air of beingsomething other than he pretended to be. Ned was skilled in readinghuman faces, and the first time he had set eyes on Herr Muller, he haddecided that under the battered exterior and slouching gait lay hiddena keen, lance-like intellect, and an unscrupulous daring. The lad wasimpressed with the conviction that here was a man to be reckoned with.
As the advancing aeroplane almost knocked him down, Herr Mullerjumped nimbly to one side. Then he assumed wha
t was meant to be afree-and-easy sort of manner.
"Chust for dot," he exclaimed, "I dakes me a picdgure of youraeromoplane. Yes--no?"
He began to unsling his camera, but Ned stopped him in a flash.
"Don't bother yourself," he said sharply. "You recollect that I toldyou the other day that it was against the rules to take pictures of anyof the aeroplanes on the grounds."
"Undt I voss ordered off, too," chuckled Herr Muller, withoutdisplaying the slightest trace of irritation, "budt, you see, meinyoung friendt, I coom back--yah."
"Do you mind standing out of the way?" cut in Herc suddenly. "I'd hateto run you down, but if you stand in the road any longer I'll have to."
Once more Herr Muller jumped nimbly aside.
"Dot'll be all righdt," he said amicably, "go on! Go ahead! Some dayyou break your neck, undt den I take picdgure of you--yes, no?"
He fixed the freckled-faced boy with a glance as he spoke. Herc,despite his usual equanimity, felt a shudder run through him, as heencountered the look. It seemed to penetrate like the white-hot flameof a blow-pipe.
"Whoof!" he exclaimed, as he hastened along, "that chap's about aspleasant a thing to have around as a rattlesnake. He gives me theshivers."
As the Dreadnought Boys hastened to the assembling place, Merritt andChance, with their machines, emerged. They passed close to Herr Muller,and as they went by he overheard every word they said.
"So Ned Strong is trying to sneak into favor again, eh?" snarledMerritt, who had just been listening to Chance's account of what he hadoverheard at the hangar window.
"Yes, confound him. I wish we could find some way to put them both outof business. If it wasn't for them, we'd be----"
A soft touch on Chance's arm interrupted him. He faced round and wasrather startled to see the shambling figure of Sigmund Muller at hiselbow. The man's face bore a peculiar, searching look. Chance felt asort of shiver run through him as he faced him. But he shook it off.
"Well, what is it?" he demanded gruffly.
"You were talking about Ned Strong and Herc Taylor and some plans theyhad?" said the photographer in quiet tones.
"Why, y-y-y-yes," stammered Chance, rather taken aback. But then, witha return to his former bravado: "What business have you eavesdropping,anyhow? What business is it of yours, eh?"
The other paid no attention to this outburst.
"You don't like Ned Strong or Herc Taylor?" he said in the same eventone.
"Like them," repeated Chance indignantly, "I should say not, Ihate--but what do you want to know for?"
"Because I don't like them either," was the reply. "If you'll meet meat eight o'clock to-night at the old barn, the other side of the stonebridge on the Medford Road, I'll have a proposition of interest to maketo you."
"What do you think I am--crazy, as you are?" burst out Chance. "Meetyou to talk moonshine? What could you do?"
"Put you in the way of making a lot of money," was the rejoinder.
"Money!" Chance laughed scornfully. "Why, you're nothing but a hoboyourself. If you know where there's so much money, why don't you----Great Scott!"
Herr Muller had quietly thrust his hand into an inside pocket andwithdrawn an immense roll of bills. Chance could see that they were allof big denominations. But he only got a brief look at the roll, for itwas almost instantaneously replaced.
"Well," said Herr Muller, with a quiet smile tinged with some contempt,"what do you think of my credentials?"
"They're--they're all right," gasped Chance, still staring as iffascinated at the shabby figure before him.
"You and your friend will agree, then, that I am worth talking businesswith?"
The other thought a minute.
"My name's Chance, and I'll take one," he said, as he turned andswiftly hastened off. He had lingered a long time and faced areprimand. But he took it philosophically, for an idea had occurred tohim, a plan which might be the means of freeing himself and his chosencompanion from what they deemed the drudgery and hardships of the lifeof a sailor.