It was apparent enough that mean mischief they did. Their dark eyes gleamed fiercely out of their swarthy faces. One or two wore a vivid red or blue handkerchief knotted about sinewy necks, this means of adornment only adding to their generally sinister look.
"I knew we wouldn't get far without running into trouble," moaned Jake dejectedly.
Roy turned on him sharply, almost angrily.
"You get the ladies in that machine and drive off down the road a bit," he said; "I'll attend to this thing. Jimsy, come here."
Jake hesitated a moment and then strode off to the auto.
"Can't we stay and help?" asked Bess.
"No; we can help Roy best by doing what he; wants us to. He's got some plan in his head," rejoined Peggy firmly, "come along, Wren; Jess, help me with her, she's terrified to death."
This was no exaggeration. At sight of the gipsy band, the child so recently taken from their clutches shrank and cowered against her young protectress.
"Don't let them take me—don't!" she kept wailing.
"Never mind; don't be scared, Wren," Peggy comforted, "they won't get you."
A flash of determined fire came into Peggy's eyes as she spoke.
"Peg! You're magnificent," exclaimed Jess, as, headed by Miss Prescott, they hastened toward the car which Jake had already cranked.
The gipsies had paused for an instant. Evidently the sight of the aëroplanes bewildered and amazed them. Expecting to come on a camp of young folks they had suddenly encountered a group of machines which, to them, must have savored of the supernatural. But as the auto drove off they were due for an even greater surprise.
Following a swift whisper from Roy both boys had jumped into theRed Dragon. In an instant came the sharp barking of the engine. The flying machine dashed forward almost simultaneously. Straight at the angry nomads Roy headed it. It was as if a war chariot of old was charging into a group of defiant barbarians.
For a few moments the gipsies stood their ground. But as the machine rose from the ground, skimmed it, as it were, Roy thrust on full power. The machine darted over the spot where the gipsies had stood but an instant before; but they had gone. Scattering with wild cries of fear, they could be seen running for their lives toward the wood.
"I don't think they'll trouble us again in a hurry," declared Roy grimly, as he brought theRed Dragonround in a circle and headed back for the rest.
From the machine came a cheer, Miss Prescott's voice ringing out as loudly as any.
"The idea just came to me in a second," explained Roy modestly, in answer to the ladies' congratulations and praise, "it worked, though, didn't it?"
"Like a charm," they all agreed.
"Hadn't we better be getting on?" asked Jimsy, a minute later.
"Yes; there's no knowing if those fellows won't try a flank attack, although I think they've had a big enough scare thrown into them to last them quite a while with economy," laughed Roy.
"Who is going to take care of Wren?" asked Bess.
"She'll ride right in the car with me," declared Miss Prescott positively, "you don't think I'm going to risk her in one of those things of yours, do you?"
They all laughed. As a matter of fact, there was not one of the party that was not more at home in the air than on a road. Then, too, Roy's balancing device had about removed the last peril of air traveling. It was agreed to stop at Meadville, which the map showed was about thirty miles to the southeast, and purchase a dress and other necessities for their new ward. As to what was to be done with her after that nobody had any very definite plans. And so the journey was resumed, with congratulations flying over the way in which they came out of what, for a time, looked like a really serious scrape.
The weather had held fair till a short time after the start was made from the scene of the encounter with the gipsies. It was Peggy who first observed a change in the sky.
From the southwest billowy masses of slate-colored clouds came rolling on, obscuring the sunlit landscape beneath with an effect of lights turned down on a stage. Turning to Jess, who occupied the seat behind her, she remarked:
"We're going to have some bad kind of a storm, girlie."
Jess nodded.
"Wonder how far we are from Meadville?" she asked.
"Quite a way yet. I'm afraid that we can't make it before the storm breaks."
"Look, there's Roy coming back, and Jimsy, too. I guess they want to talk about it."
This turned out to be the case. As Roy came swinging by he held a small megaphone to his mouth with one hand, while the other gripped the steering wheel tightly.
"We're in for a storm, girls, and a hummer, too, from the look of it."
"Better drop down," counseled Jimsy.
Jess nodded, and, as at this moment Bess, who had seen the boy's maneuver, came by, the news was communicated to her.
The next thing to do was to look about for a suitable place to land. The country over which they were passing was heavily wooded, and seemingly sparsely populated. Beneath them wound a road, along which, but at some distance behind, the touring car could be seen coming in a cloud of yellow dust.
The wind began to grow puffy, and it required all the skill of the young aviators to keep their flock of motor-driven birds on even wings. Before long, just as the distant, but fast approaching, cloud curtain began to be ripped and slashed by vivid scimitars of lightning, Roy espied, beneath them, a field, at one end of which stood a prosperous-looking farmhouse, surrounded by buildings and hay stacks.
It was an ideal spot in which to land, and as the road was near by they would have no difficulty in attracting the attention of Miss Prescott when she went by. In graceful volplanes the aëroplanes lit in the field like an alighting flight of carrier pigeons. But hardly had they touched the ground when from the farmhouse a man came running in his shirtsleeves, his lower limbs being garbed in overalls and knee-boots. On his chin was a goatee, and as he drew closer they saw that his face was thin and hatchet shaped and anything but agreeable.
"You git out of thar! You git out of thar!" he kept shouting as he came along, stumbling over the stubble, for the field had been newly reaped.
"Why, what's the matter? We're not hurting anything," objected Roy; "surely you don't mind our occupying the field for an hour or so till the storm blows over?"
"I daon't, hey? Wa'al, I do, by heck. I own all the way daown and all the way up frum this farm, and thet's ther law."
"If we didn't have these ladies with us we'd be only too glad to leave your field," rejoined Jimsy, "but you can see for yourself a nasty storm is coming up."
"What bizness hes gals riding round in them sky-buggies," stormed the farmer; "ef any darter uv mine did it I'd lock her up on bread an' water, by Jim Hill."
"I don't doubt it in the least," smiled Peggy sweetly.
"Humph!" grunted the cantankerous old agriculturist, not quite sure if he was being made fun of or if his resolution was being admired; "all I got to say is thet ef you want to stay here you gotter pay."
"That can be arranged," spoke Jimsy, with quiet sarcasm.
"An' pay wa'al, too," resumed the farmer tenaciously.
"How much do you think the lease of your field for an hour or so is worth?" asked Roy.
The farmer considered an instant, and then, with an avaricious look in his pin-point blue eyes, he looked up.
"'Bout ten dollars," he said, at length.
"We don't want to buy it, we just want to rent it for a very short time," struck in Bess, with her most innocent expression.
"Wa'al, it's ten or git off!" snapped the farmer.
"I'll pay you a fair price for it," spoke up Roy, "and not a cent more."
"Then I'll drive you off with a shot-gun, by chowder."
"Oh, no, you won't."
"Won't, hey? What'll stop me?"
"The law."
"Ther law? Thet's a good one."
"I think it is, a very good one," struck in Jimsy, who now saw what Roy was driving at.
"Humph! wa'al, if yer a'goin' te talk law I'll jes' tell yer quick thet this is my land and thet you're all a-trespassing."
"You are not very well up on aërial law, it seems," replied Roy, in an absolutely unruffled tone.
"Don't know nuthin' 'bout this air-ile law," grumbled the fellow, but somewhat impressed by Roy's calm, deliberate exterior.
"Well, then, for your information I'll tell you that under the laws of the country recently enacted aviators are entitled to land in any safe landing place in times of emergency. If they do any damage they must pay for it. If not the owner of the land is not entitled to anything for the temporary use of his place."
"Five dollars or nothing," spoke Jimsy, "and if you try to put us off you'll get into serious trouble."
"Wa'al, yer a-robbin' me," muttered the man, much impressed by Roy's oratory, "gimme ther five."
It was quickly forthcoming. The old fellow took it without a word and shuffled off. As he did so there was a vivid flash of lightning and the growl of a big crash of thunder. While it was still resounding the auto came puffing up. Jake had put up the storm top and made it as snug and comfortable as a house.
"Come on, boys and girls," urged Roy, "let's get the engines covered up and then beat it for the car. The rain will hit in in torrents in a few minutes."
Indeed they were still making fast the waterproof covers constructed to throw over the motors in just such emergencies when the big drops began to fall.
There was a helter-skelter race for the car. In they all crowded, and none too soon. The air was almost as dark as at dusk, and there was a heavy sulphurous feeling in the atmosphere. But within the curtains of the car all was fun and merriment. The case of the old farmer was discussed at length, and Jimsy convulsed them all by his clever imitation of the way the bargain was driven.
He was in the midst of his description when a fearfully vivid flash lit up the interior of the car as brightly as day. As it did so The Wren uttered a sharp cry.
"What is it, dear? Afraid of the lightning?" asked Miss Prescott, while a thunder volley boomed and reverberated.
"No, no," shivered the child, drawing closer to her, "but when I see a flash like that I sometimes remember."
"Remember what?" asked Miss Prescott tenderly.
"Oh, I don't know," wailed the child, "people and places. They come for a moment and then disappear again as quickly as they came."
Flash after flash, roar after roar, the lightning and thunder crashed and blazed as the full fury of the storm struck in. Miss Prescott, who was in deadly fear of lightning, covered her eyes with a thick veil and sank back in the cushions of the tonneau.
But the rest of the party regarded the furious storm with interest. The rain was coming down in sheets, but not one drop penetrated the water-proof top of the big touring car.
"It's grand, isn't it?" asked Peggy, after a particularly brilliant flash.
"Um—ah, I don't just know," rejoined Jess, "it's rather too grand if anything. I——" Bang!
There was a sharp report, like that of a large cannon. The air was filled with an eye-blistering blaze of blue fire. Stunned for an instant, and half blinded, not one of the young folks in the touring car uttered a word.
The storm, too, appeared to be "holding its breath" after that terrific bombardment.
"That struck close by," declared Roy, the first to recover his speech.
"Oh! oh!" moaned Miss Prescott, "then the next will hit us!"
"Don't be a goose, Aunt Sally," comforted Peggy; "don't you know that lightning never strikes twice in the same place?"
Miss Prescott made no answer. In fact she had no opportunity to do so.
From close at hand shouts were coming. Loud, frightened shouts.
"Fire! fire!"
"Gracious! something's on fire at that farmhouse!" cried Peggy.
"That's what!" came in excited tones from Roy as he peered out through the rain.
"Look at them running about," chimed in Jimsy.
"It's from that haystack! See the smoke roll up!" cried Bess.
"The lightning must have struck it. Say, we'd better go and help," exclaimed Roy anxiously.
"I don't see that the old man who was so mean to us deserves any help," murmured Bess, rather angrily.
"Why, Bess, for shame!" reproved Peggy. "Go on, boys, the rain's letting up, maybe you can help them."
"All right, sis. Come on, Jimsy!"
The boys dived out of the car and set off running at top speed for the scene of the blaze, which was in a haystack back of the main barn of the farmhouse. Several farm hands, under the direction of the disagreeable old man, whose name was Zenas Hutchings, were running about with buckets of water, which were about as effective as trying to sweep the sea back with a broom, so far as gaining any headway against the flames was concerned.
Had the rain continued it might have been possible for the farm hands to quell the blaze with the assistance of the elements; but the storm had ceased almost as suddenly as it began, and only a few scattering drops were now falling. Off to the southwest the sky was blue once more.
The farmer turned despairingly to the boys as they came running up.
"'Clare ter goodness if it ain't them kids ag'in," he exclaimed; "wa'al, you ain't brought me nuthin' but bad luck so far as I kin see. Hyars a hundred dollars' worth of hay goin' up in smoke an'—"
A farm hand came bustling up. His face was pale under the grime of soot that overlaid it.
"Ef we don't git ther fire under control purty soon," he cried, "ther whole place 'ull go."
"What's thet, Jed?" snapped old Hutchings anxiously.
"I said that ther sparks is beginning ter fly. If ther fire gits much hotter it'll set suthin' else ablaze."
"By heck! That's so!" cried old Hutchings, in an alarmed voice.
He gazed about him perplexedly.
"Isn't there any fire apparatus near here?" asked Roy.
"Yep; at Topman's Corners. But that's five miles off."
"Have you telephoned them?" asked Jimsy, who had noticed that the Hutchings farm, like most up-to-date ones, was equipped with a telephone; at least there were wires running into the place which appeared to be of that nature.
"Ain't no use telephoning" was the disconsolate rejoinder.
"Why?"
"Wire's busted. Reckon ther storm put it out of business. I guess it's all up with me now. I hoped ter pay off ther part of ther mortgage with ther hay and grain in thet barn yonder, an' now——" He broke off in a half sob. Cantankerous as the old man had shown himself to be, and grasping withal, the boys could not help but feel sorry for the stricken old fellow. He looked pitifully bowed and old and wretched in the midst of his distracted farm hands, who were running about and shouting and not doing much of anything else.
"Wa'al," he said, at length, pulling himself together with a visible effort, "thar's no chance of gitting ther fire ingines, so it'll hev ter go, I guess."
"Yes there is a chance of getting the engines, and a good one, too."
They all turned at the sound of a girlish voice, and there stood Peggy with Jess by her side. The two girls had stolen up unnoticed in the excitement.
"Bravo, Peg!" exclaimed Roy heartily, glancing approvingly at his sister, "what's your idea?"
"Fly over and get help."
"Fly over! Wa'al, I'll be switched!" gasped old Hutchings.
"I don't see why not," struck in Jimsy, "it's five miles, you say. Well, we ought to make that in ten minutes or so, or even quicker."
"How fast can the engines get back?" asked Roy practically.
"Wa'al, ther roads be good and Bob Shields hez a right smart team," was the rejoinder. "They ought ter make it in half an hour."
"Good. Then if you can hold the flames in check for a short time longer we can save your place yet."
Beckoning to Jimsy, the boy darted off for theRed Dragon. This machine he selected because, with the exception of theDart, it was the fastest and lightest of the aëroplanes they had with them. Farmer Hutchings had hardly closed his mouth from its gaping expression of surprise when a whirr of the motor announced that theRed Dragonwas off. Its lithe body shot into the air with tremendous impetus.
"Ther Corners is off thar to ther westward," shouted up the farmer, "you can't miss it. It's got a red brick church with a high tower on it right in the middle of a clump of elms."
Speeding above fields and woodland the red messenger of pending disaster raced through the air. Five minutes after taking flight Jimsy espied a high red tower. Eight and one half minutes after theDragonhad shot aloft it fluttered to earth on the village street of Topman's Corners, amid an amazed group of citizens who had seen it approaching.
It was the first aëroplane ever seen in the remote Pennsylvanian hamlet, and it created commensurate excitement. But the boys had no time to answer the scores of questions, foolish and otherwise, that were volleyed at them from all sides.
"There's a fire!" exclaimed Jimsy breathlessly, "a fire at Hutchings's farm. How soon can you get the engines there?"
A stalwart-looking young fellow stepped up.
"I'm chief of the department," he said, "we're the 'Valiants.' I'll be there in twenty-five minutes if I have to kill the horses. It's downhill most of the way, anyhow. Jim, you run off and ring ther bell."
A second later the fire bell was loudly clanging and several of the crowd melted away to don their helmets and coats. In less time than the boys would have thought it possible a good-looking engine came rumbling out of the fire house half a block down the street. Behind it came a hook and ladder truck.
Fine horses were attached to each, and from the way they leaped off the boys saw that the "Chief" meant to make good his promise.
"Race you to ther fire!" shouted the latter functionary, as, in a storm of cheers, his apparatus swept out of sight down the elm-bordered street.
"You're on," laughed Roy, whisking aloft while the Topman's Cornerites were still wondering within themselves if they were waking or dreaming.
The fire was out. A smoldering, blackened hillock was all that remained of the stack ignited by the lightning bolt; but the others and the main buildings of the farm had been saved.
Such work was a new task for aëroplanes—but there is no doubt that, had it not been for Peggy's suggestion, the Hutchings farm would have been burned to the ground. As it was, when the firemen, their horses in a lather, arrived at the scene, the farm hands, who had been fighting the flames, were almost exhausted.
Had they possessed the time, the young folks would have been glad to tell the curious firemen something about their aëroplanes. But it was well into the afternoon, and if they intended to keep up their itinerary it was necessary for them to be hurrying on. A short time after the blaze had been declared "out" the aëroplanes once more soared aloft, and the auto chugged off in the direction of Meadville.
The afternoon sun shone sparklingly on the trees and fields below, all freshened by the downpour of the early afternoon. The spirits of all rose as did their machines as they raced along. Before leaving the Hutchings farm the old man had been so moved to generosity by the novel manner in which his farm had been saved from destruction that he had offered to give back $2.50 of the $5 he had demanded for the rent of his field. Of course they had not taken it, but the evident anguish with which the offer was made afforded much amusement to the young aviators as they soared along.
In Peggy's machine the talk between herself and Jess was of the strange finding of The Wren, and of the child's curious ways. Both girls recalled her odd conduct during the storm and what she had said about the peculiar influence of lightning on her memory.
"Depend on it, Jess," declared Peggy, with conviction, "that child is no more a gipsy than you or I."
"Do you think she was stolen from somewhere?" asked Jess, readily guessing the drift of her friend's thoughts.
"I don't know, but I'm sure they had no legal right to her," was the reply.
"Oh, Peg! Suppose she should turn out to be a missing heiress!" Jess, who loved a romance, clasped her gauntleted hands.
Peggy laughed.
"Missing heiresses are not so common as you might suppose," she said; "I never met any one who had encountered any, except in story books."
"Still, it would be great if we had really found a long missing child, or—or something like that," concluded Jess, rather lamely.
"I can't see how we would be benefiting the child or its parents, either, since we have no way of knowing who the latter are," rejoined the practical Peggy, which remark closed the discussion for the time being.
It was not more than half an hour later when Jess uttered a sharp cry of alarm. From the forward part of the aëroplane a wisp of smoke had suddenly curled upward. Like a blue serpent of vapor it dissolved in the air almost so quickly as to make Jess believe, for an instant, that she had been the victim of an hallucination.
But that it was no figment of the imagination was evidenced a few moments later by Peggy herself. Aroused by Jess's cry, she had made an inspection of the machine, with alarming results. What these were speedily became manifest.
"Jess! The machine is on fire!" she cried afrightedly.
As if in verification of her words there came a puff of flame and a strong reek of gasoline. It was just then that both girls recalled that theGolden Butterflycarried twenty-five gallons of gasoline, without counting the reserve supply.
Fire on an aëroplane is even more terrifying than a similar casualty on any other type of machine. Hardly had Peggy's words confirming the alarming news left her lips when there came a cry from Jess.
The girl had just glanced at the barograph. It showed that they were then 1,500 feet above the surface of the earth. The girl had hardly made this discovery before, from beneath the "bow" of the monoplane, came a wave of flame; driven from the steering wheel by the heat, Peggy drew back toward her companion. Her face was ashen white.
Left to itself the aëroplane "yawed" wildly, like a craft without a rudder. Then suddenly it dashed down toward the earth, smoke and flames leaping from its front part.
Both girls uttered a cry of terror as the aircraft fell like a stone hurled into space. Faster and faster it dashed earthward without a controlling hand to guide it. It was at this instant that Roy and Jimsy became aware of what had happened.
Both Girls Uttered a Cry of Terror As the Air Craft Fell Like a Stone Hurled into Space.
Both Girls Uttered a Cry of Terror As the Air Craft Fell Like a Stone Hurled into Space.
Instantly they swung their machine around in time to see theGolden Butterflymake her sickening downward swoop. Both lads uttered a cry of fear as they saw what appeared to mean certain death for the two Girl Aviators.
Roy's fingers scarcely grasped the wheel of his machine as he saw the downward drop. Jimsy was as badly affected. But almost before they could grasp a full realization of the accident theGolden Butterflywas almost on the ground. It was in a hilly bit of country, interspersed by small lakes or ponds.
A freak of the wind caught the blazing aëroplane as it fell and drove it right over one of these small bodies of water.
TheGolden Butterflyappeared to hesitate for one instant and then plunged right into the water, flinging the two girls out. Both were expert swimmers, but the shock of the sudden descent, and the abrupt manner in which they had been flung into the water had badly unstrung their nerves.
Jess struck out valiantly, but the next instant uttered a cry:
"Peg! Peg! I'm sinking!"
Peggy pluckily struck out for her chum and succeeded in seizing her. Then with brisk strokes she made for the shore, luckily only a few yards distant. It was at this juncture that the boys' machines came to earth almost simultaneously. High above Bess'sDarthovered, and presently it, too, began to drop downward. Apparently the accident had not been seen from the auto, at any rate the car was not turned back toward the scene of the accident.
As the boys' aëroplanes struck the earth not far from the bank of the pond toward which Peggy was at that moment valiantly struggling, the two young aviators leaped out and set out at a run to the rescue. They reached the bank in the nick of time to pull out the two drenched, half-exhausted girls.
"At any rate the fall was a lucky one in a way!" gasped the optimistic Peggy, as soon as she caught her breath, "it put out the fire."
And so it had. Not only that, but the aëroplane, buoyed up by its broad wings, was still floating. On board theRed Dragonwas a long bit of rope. Jimsy produced this and then swam out to the driftingButterfly. The rope was made fast to it and the craft dragged ashore. But when they got it to the bank the problem arose as to how they were going to drag it up the steep acclivity.
Again and again they tried; Bess, who had by this time alighted, aiding them. But it was all to no purpose. Even their united strength failed to move the heavy apparatus.
"I've got an idea!" shouted Jimsy suddenly, during a pause in their laborious operations.
"Good! Don't let it get away, I beg of you!" implored Peggy.
"Oh, Peg! Don't tease, besides, you don't look a bit cute with your hair all wet and draggled, and as for your dress—goodness!"
This came from Jess, herself sadly "rumpled" and in addition wet through. Before Peggy could reply to her chum's half rallying remark Jimsy, unabashed, continued:
"We'll hitch this rope to theRed Dragonand then start her up for all she's worth."
"Jimsy, you're a genius!"
"A modern marvel!"
"A solid promontory of pure gray matter!"
In turn the remarks came from each of the party. But Jimsy, bothering not at all at the laughing encomiums, proceeded to secure the rope to theRed Dragon. This done, he started up the engine and clambered into his seat.
"All ashore that's going ashore!" he yelled, in mocking imitation of the stewards of an ocean liner.
There wasn't an instant's hesitation as he threw the load upon the engine. Then the rope tautened. It grew tight as a fiddle string.
"Goodness! It'll snap and theDragonwill be broken!" cried Jess, in alarm.
But no such thing happened. Instead, as theDragon'spowerful propeller blades "bit" into the air, theGolden Butterflyobediently mounted the steep bank of the pond. Five minutes later the pretty craft stood on dry land and the party of young aviators were eagerly making an investigation of the damage done.
The cause of the fire was soon found. A tiny leak in the tank had allowed some gasoline to drip into the bottom of the chassis, or passenger carrier. Collecting here, it was plain that a back fire from the carburetor had ignited it.
Neither of the girls could repress a shudder as they thought of what might have occurred had they been higher in the air and no convenient pond handy for them to drop into. In such a case the flames might have reached the gasoline tank before they could be extinguished and inevitably a fearful explosion would have followed.
"I think you are the two luckiest girls in the world," declared Roy solemnly, as he concluded his examination and announced his conclusions. Naturally they fully agreed with him.
It was some two hours later that Meadville received the greatest excitement of its career. People rushed out of stores and houses as the "flock" of aëroplanes came into sight.
As they gazed down the young aviators felt a momentary regret that they had chosen a town in which to pass the first night of their motor flight. It appeared that they would get into difficulties when they attempted to make a landing.
But almost simultaneously they spied a public park, which appeared to offer a favorable landing place. As soon as their intention of descending there became manifest, however, the crowd made a headlong rush for the spot.
It was too late to seek some other location to alight even had there been one available. Trusting to luck that the eager spectators would get out of their way the four aëroplanes began their spiraling descent.
Roy was first in his big biplane. As the ponderous, white machine ranged down close to the park the crowd became well-nigh uncontrollable. They swarmed beneath the big machine, despite Roy's shouts of warning.
Skillfully as the boy manipulated the aircraft he could not check its descent once begun.
"Out of the way! I don't want to hurt you!" he shouted, as he dashed down.
But the crowd, sheeplike in their stupidity, refused to budge. Into the midst of them Roy, perforce, was compelled to drive. Once the throng perceived his intention, however, they scattered wildly. That is, all sought positions of safety but one man, a stout, red-faced individual, who appeared dazed or befuddled.
He stood his ground, glaring foolishly at the sky ship. With a quick turn of his wrist Roy swept the big biplane aside, but a wing tip brushed the stout man, toppling him over in a twinkling. By the time Roy had stopped his machine the man was on his feet again, bellowing furiously. He was not hurt, but his face was contorted with anger.
He pushed his way through the crowd toward the young aviator.
"You young scoundrel!" he yelled, "I'll fix you for that! I'll—" "Look out, here come the rest of them!" shouted the crowd at this juncture.
Nobody needed any warning this time. They fled in all directions as one after the other theGolden Butterfly, theRed Dragonand the pretty, gracefulDartdropped to earth.
"Wa'al, look at them gals, will yer!" shouted a voice in the crowd.
"What's the country coming to?" demanded another man. "Gals gallivanting around like gol-dinged birds!"
But the majority of the crowd took the pretty girl aviators to its heart. Somebody set up a cheer.
It was still ringing out when, to the huge relief of the embarrassed girls, the auto came rolling up with Miss Prescott and "The Wren," as they still called the latter.
The girls, leaving the boys to look after the aëroplanes, ran to the side of the car and were speedily ensconced in its roomy tonneau. "We'll see you at the hotel!" cried Roy, as the car rolled off again, much to the disappointment of the crowd.
Two local constables came up at this juncture and helped the boys keep the crowd back from the machines. The throng seemed souvenir mad. Many of them insisted on writing their names with pencils on the wings of the air craft. Others would have gone further and actually stripped the aëroplanes of odd parts had they not been held back.
"This is the last time we'll land in a town of this size," declared Roy indignantly, as he helped the constables shove back an obstreperous individual who insisted on examining the motor of theDart.
With the help of the constables a sheltering place for the machines was finally found. A livery stable that had gone out of business the week before was located across the street from the small park in which they had alighted. The owner of the property happened to be in the crowd and a bargain with him was soon struck. The aëroplanes were then trundled on their landing wheels into this shelter and the doors closed. Roy, for a small sum, engaged a tall, gangling-looking youth, whose name was Tam Tammas, to guard the doors and keep off the inquisitive. This done, thoroughly tired out, the boys sought the hotel. Like most towns of its size and importance Meadville only boasted one hostelry worthy of the name. This place, the Fountain House, as it was called, was a decent enough looking hotel and the young aviators were warmly welcomed. After supper, for in Meadville nobody "dined," Miss Prescott and the girls sauntered out with The Wren to obtain some clothing for the waif who had so strangely come into their possession. It was odd, but somehow they none of them even suggested giving up the queer little foundling to the authorities as had originally been their intention. Instead, although none of them actually voiced it, it appeared that tacitly they had decided to keep the child with them.
While they were gone on their errand of helpfulness Roy and Jimsy were seated on the porch of the hotel watching, with more or less languid interest, the inhabitants of the town passing back and forth. Many of them lingered in front of the hotel, for aviators were not common objects in that part of the country, and already the party had become local celebrities.
"I guess we'll go inside," said Roy, at length, "I'm getting sick of being looked at as if I was some sort of natural curiosity."
"Same here," rejoined Jimsy, "we'll go in and I'll play you a game of checkers."
"You're on," was the response.
But as the boys rose to go, or rather the instant before they left their seats, there came a heavy step behind Roy and a gruff voice snarled:
"What are you doing in that chair?"
"Sitting in it," responded Roy, in not too pleasant a voice. The tone in which he had been addressed had aroused a hot resentment in him toward the speaker.
Turning he saw the same red-faced man whom he had been unfortunate enough to knock down.
Instantly his manner changed. He felt genuinely sorry for the accident and hastened to explain that such was the case. But a glowering glance was the only response he received. "You done it a-purpose. Don't tell me," snarled the red-faced individual, "an' now you git right out uv that chair or—or I'll make you!"
Both boys stared at the man in amazement. His tone was coarse and bullying to a degree.
"We are not occupying these chairs to your inconvenience," declared Roy stoutly, "there are lots of others."
He indicated several rockers placed at intervals along the hotel porch, and all empty.
"That chair you're sitting in is mine," snapped the man, in response.
"Got a mortgage on it, eh?" smiled Jimsy amiably.
"I'll show you kids how much of a mortgage I've got on it," was the reply.
It was just then that a lad of about Roy's own age, but with a surly, hang-dog sort of look, emerged from the smoking-room of the hotel.
"What's up, father?" he demanded, addressing the red-faced man.
"Why, Dan, the kids have appropriated my chair."
"Oh, those flying kids. Well, they'll see that they ain't everything around here," responded the lad; "I reckon Jim Cassell has some say here, eh, dad?"
"I reckon so, son," grinned the red-faced man, in response to this elegant speech; "now, then, are you going to give up that chair or not?"
"I was just leaving it when you came out," rejoined Roy, who, by this time, was fairly boiling over. "Under the present conditions, however, I think I shall continue to occupy it."
"You will, eh?" snarled out Dan Cassell, "then I'll show you how to vacate it—so!"
With the words he laid hands on the back of the chair and jerked it from under the young aviator. Roy, caught entirely off his guard, was flung to the floor of the porch. He was up in a flash, but as he rose to his feet Dan Cassell, evidently excited by what he deemed a great triumph, aimed a savage blow at him.
Jimsy was rushing to his assistance but the red-faced man suddenly blocked his path.
"Hold off, son! hold off!" he warned, "unless you want to get the same dose."