Back Aa

Airplane Boys among the Clouds

Close

<h2 id="id00358" style="margin-top: 4em">CHAPTER VII</h2> <h5 id="id00359">SEEN FROM THE EAGLES' EYRIE</h5> They were already spinning along at a lively clip, and rising too, at the moment that shot sounded, and the leaden missile whizzed past so close to them. Almost through sheer instinct Frank instantly shifted his lever, and started the biplane upward on a slant that was the limit, and approaching the danger line. The two Bird boys turned and stared at each other. Wonder and indignation seemed struggling for the mastery in their faces. "Frank, he fired that shot at us!" exclaimed Andy. "Seemed like it," returned the other. "At any rate, it came much too close to suit my ideas of comfort. Made me think of those warm times we had down in Columbia, when the revolutionists were after us." "What a wicked shame!" went on the other fiercely. "And I guess the silly fool thought he was doing something smart! That's a new danger aviators will have to face—being shot at by every loon that carries a gun, just like they might be some strange bird." "Well, we're Birds, all right, but hardly strange ones," Frank continued, with a frown on his face. "And we've been knocking around this section of the country in our jolly little monoplane so long, that I supposed every farmer's boy knew us and felt an interest in our work. That makes me believe it could hardly have been done in a spirit of what some people would call a joke." "Good gracious! Frank, do you mean that the fellow really wanted to hit us? Oh! that seems too terrible to believe!" cried Andy, aghast. "Stop and think," Frank continued, steadily. "In the first place, what would any one be doing, hunting in the middle of summer. Why, outside of a short spell given over to woodcock, there isn't a thing the law allows a sportsman to shoot up to Fall. And Andy, did you ever hear of anybody shooting woodcock with a rifle?" "Oh! Frank!" "Well, am I right about that? It sounded like the report of a rifle to me; and it was sure a bullet that whistled past us!" Frank pursued, in his customary positive way. "Yes, you're right about that. But who could be so horribly mean as to want to injure us?" said Andy. "Why, even if that bullet had struck our biplane in one of half a dozen places, it might have made us fall. And Frank, that would be just criminal, you know." "I suppose you noticed that puff of smoke below us?" Frank went on. "It just happened that I was looking down, and I saw it burst out of a thicket," came the answer. "It was the same way with me," Frank continued. "I had just a glimpse of some fellow throwing himself under the bushes but if you asked me I couldn't say for certain whether it was a man or a boy." "Just like he was afraid of being seen, and recognized; is that what you mean?" asked Andy. "It looked that way," Frank replied. "Don't you see, Frank, he gave himself away in doing that? First, he knew he was doing a dirty mean act; and second, he must have been somebody we knew, or he wouldn't have been so afraid of being seen." "That's so, Andy. Another thing, perhaps it may not have struck you that once before you and I met with an adventure while almost over the same spot." Andy gave vent to an exclamation that told of excitement revived. "You mean the time we sighted those two skulking jewelry thieves, the fellows who had robbed Leffingwell's store, and were hiding until the row quieted down?" "Yes, Jules Garrone, and his pal," Frank went on. "Jules was the one who had been an aviator over in France, and who tried to steal our Bug, meaning to fly away, and leave no trail behind for the hunting police. But Frank, you can't possibly believe Jules was the fellow who fired that shot? It don't stand to reason; because you know, he was sent to the penitentiary for ten years. Oh! no, I guess we'll have to think up something else this time," and Andy shook his head vigorously in the negative. "Well, time may tell," Frank said, simply. "Looky here, Frank, now there's no use denying it, I know you've got some sort of idea about finding out who that rascal was," declared Andy. "Well, perhaps there is some sort of hazy notion hovering around in my brain, that I ought to learn more about him," the other smiled back. "This thing of being made a target by any fool who happens to own a rifle is something that ought to be stopped with a jerk. Yes, I do expect to try and find out." "And you won't tell me what's on your mind?" asked Andy. "Not just now. It's too uncertain to speak of, yet. And perhaps, after all, it was only some boy, who thought it would be smart to give us a little shock; and who sent his bullet closer than he had meant to." "You sure don't mean—Percy?" exclaimed Andy. "Oh! no, I didn't have him in mind," laughed Frank. "Not that he wouldn't be guilty of such meanness if the chance came—you know that fellow isn't above anything!" declared Andy, vigorously. "Well, just at present I can imagine that Percy and his crony Sandy Hollingshead, are using up every minute of their precious time assembling the parts of their new aeroplane. Consequently, Andy, neither of them would be apt to wander away up here, miles from Bloomsbury, and carrying a rifle." "Guess you're right," grumbled the other, as if loth to entirely give up the idea that had flashed into his mind. "But it strikes me, Frank, after this, when we're out for a spin, we ought to give that region of the old charcoal burner's shack a wide berth. It spells trouble for the Bird boys." "Oh! I don't know; perhaps the trouble may later on be all in store for the fellow who held that gun. But look up, Andy; we're getting along toward the peak at a gay old pace. Say, what do you think of the biplane now?" "She's a peach, that's what!" burst out Andy, impulsively. "I thought the little Bug was the whole thing, and then some; but honestly, Frank, she wasn't in the same class as this new machine." "And yet," Frank laughed, "remember that with her we beat Percy and his biplane, manufactured by one of the best firms in the market. That ought to be glory enough for the Bird boys. Now, get ready for your part in the landing; because, you know the plateau isn't extra big on Old Thunder Top." "I see our old friends, the white-headed eagles soaring around. D'ye think they'll tackle us again, like they did last year?" Andy asked. "Oh! I hope that by now they've grown used to us, and consider that we've got just as much right up here as they ever had. Besides, we gave 'em an awful walloping you may remember. And this time we've been smart enough to fetch along a couple of fine sticks to repeat the dose if necessary. Careful now, Andy. Here goes for a snug drop on the rock!" Almost as lightly as a thistle-down the biplane alighted on the small table rock that constituted the apex of grim Old Thunder Top. High cliffs completely surrounding this summit had kept it from ever being reached, up to the time Frank and his cousin landed there, in winning the race for a silver cup; and planted the Stars and Stripes there for the first time on record. Since then the boys of Bloomsbury, not to be wholly outdone, had set to work, and actually carved a set of rough steps, that were hardly more than footholds, in the uneven rock; so that the most daring had been able to climb up; and with the aid of a friendly rope carried along for this purpose, get down again in safety. But in the annals of Bloomsbury the Bird boys would be set down as the pioneers who led the way to the peak. Frank and his cousin were soon walking around the rocky plateau, using their fieldglasses to observe the many things that lay stretched out in every direction. It was well worth all the trouble it cost to enjoy that magnificent view; for they could see for many miles in every direction. Andy more than once turned the glasses toward the quarter where they had had their peculiar little adventure that morning. But of course he saw no sign of the unknown party who had fired the shot. The dense forest would naturally prevent their sighting him when miles away. Half an hour they spent in this manner; and then Andy suggested that they might just as well be starting for home. "I notice that the wind is beginning to come up quite some," he remarked. "And at such a height I rather guess it can blow for all that's out, when it wants. Besides, we've got a number of little things we had expected to attend to at the shop." "All right," replied Frank, who was using the glasses at the time. "I'll be ready to join you in a minute or so." "You seem to be interested in taking in our practice field," remarked his cousin. "See the boys; and are they watching us right now?" "I was wondering what was going to happen," said Frank, taking the glasses down. "Happen—to us, do you mean?" Andy asked, instantly taking the alarm, because he saw from Frank's manner that the other meant something by his remark. "Here, have a look, and then tell me if you recognize it." Andy immediately accepted the glasses, and clapped them to his eyes. He had no sooner done so than he gave vent to an exclamation. "I know now what you meant, Frank," he remarked. "Well, what do you make of it?" asked the other. "The same car, beyond a doubt; and it's stopped in the road right in front of the bars where we enter our field. Yes, and there's that mysterious Mr. Marsh going into the field right now. Frank, he knows we're away, for he must have seen us sailing around up here. And that's why he's heading for our shop. Perhaps he believes it's unguarded, and expects to get a chance to spy around. Now, what do you think it all means? Oh! I wish we had started back long ago. What if the boys fall to his dope, and let him see everything with those sharp eyes of his? Frank, let's be going home!" <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2