CHAPTER X

OVER THE LAKE

“She’s coming down!”

“Something is the matter with the motor!”

“Look! look! she is heading directly for that motor boat!”

“It’s Si Voup’s craft, and Si and Ike are on board!”

These and other cries rang out, as the big biplane came swooping down, closer and closer to the surface of Pine Lake. A number of boats were out, the occupants watching the flight of the _Skylark_. Among the craft was the motor boat belonging to the rich bully, and he and his crony, Ike, were on board.

“Hi! hi! Don’t come down on us!” yelled Si, in sudden terror, as the aircraft swept closer.

[Illustration: “HI! HI! DON’T COME DOWN ON US!”]

“Start her up!” yelled Ike. “We must get out of here, Si!”

The small boats were scattering in all directions, each person anxious to get out of the possible path of the descending biplane. It could be seen that James Slosson was doing his best to gain the field from which he had started. Harry sat still, gripping the sides of his seat, but ready to jump should the occasion demand it.

Down came the _Skylark_, lower and lower, until it was scarcely ten feet above the Voup motor boat. Si and Ike screamed in terror, and both ducked down below the gunwale, seeking shelter. Then came a sudden puff of wind and the biplane soared up once more and over a long dock, piled high with lumber. A few seconds later the flying machine reached the open field and came down with scarcely a jar.

“Safe!” gasped Joe, and breathed a sigh of relief. He ran up and assisted his brother to the ground. Harry was pale, and for several seconds did not know what to say.

“Say, that was a close shave,” remarked Fred. “What was the trouble? You didn’t stop the engine on purpose, did you?”

“No, she stopped of her own accord,” answered the aviator. “I don’t know what the trouble was. I’ll have to find out.”

“You can be thankful that you didn’t go into the lake,” remarked Bart.

“It did look as if we’d have to swim for it, didn’t it?” replied Harry, and he tried his best to force a smile.

“You about scared Si Voup and Ike Boardman to death,” remarked Paul Shale, as he came in from his uncle’s sloop. “They are as mad as hornets.”

A crowd commenced to gather, all anxious to learn why the _Skylark_ had come down so quickly. The aviator inspected the engine and the ignition system.

“Seems to be all right,” he announced. “I can’t quite understand it.” He turned on the control, but there was no response from the motor.

“Perhaps it’s the gasoline,” suggested Joe. “I know the auto engine stopped once and it was nothing but some water in the gasoline. Dirt will do the same thing, you know.”

“Yes,” and James Slosson nodded. “We’ll have a look at the gas and the supply pipe.”

In a minute more the trouble was located--a tiny bit of waste that had fallen into the gasoline tank in some manner and clogged up the end of the pipe. It was speedily removed, and then the gasoline flowed as well as ever.

“And to think that such a tiny bit of waste as that might have tumbled us into the lake!” murmured Harry.

“Yes, or onto the ground,” added Fred. “A fellow can’t be too careful, before he starts to fly.”

“It’s a lesson,” said James Slosson. “Never attempt a flight until you go over your machine from end to end. Don’t let a thing escape you. Look to the engine, to the steering outfit, to every wire and every nut and bolt.”

“Here come Si and Ike!” exclaimed Link, a minute later, while the aviator was getting ready to test the motor once more. “Say, Si looks pretty mad!”

“Hey, you fellows, what do you mean by trying to hit us?” demanded the rich bully, as he strode up and confronted the aviator and Harry.

“We didn’t try to hit you, Si--we wouldn’t be so foolish,” answered Harry.

“Yes, you did. You wanted to scare us.”

“Well, they scared you right enough,” put in a man in the crowd.

“I ain’t going to allow it,” stormed Si. “Do you hear? I ain’t going to allow it!”

“All right, then, don’t,” answered Joe, briefly.

“I’ll have the law on you!”

“Maybe they haven’t got a license to run,” suggested Ike, maliciously.

“No need of a license in Lakeport,” answered James Slosson.

“It ain’t fair to let you run around, endangering folks’ lives,” stormed Si. “I’m going to speak to the authorities about it.”

“You’d better speak to the authorities about your motor boat!” cried Harry. “Many a time you’ve come close to running somebody down with that, Si Voup.”

“That’s true!” said a farmer who was present. He often rowed across the end of the lake for supplies and more than once had been in danger of a collision with the swiftly moving Voup craft. “I reckon the motor boat is a heap sight more dangerous than that airship!”

“Now that you’ve got a flying machine you think you are going to run everything,” grumbled Si. “But I’ll show you that you can’t! Just you wait and see!” And he walked off, motioning to his crony to follow.

“Si is so envious he doesn’t know how to contain himself,” was Joe’s comment, and his reasoning was correct. The rich youth hated to see any other lads have something that was better or more up-to-date than the things he owned. When the other lads had gotten plain shotguns for hunting, he had coaxed his father into getting him a fancy fowling-piece; when the others got rowboats and the use of a small sailboat, he had begged for the motor boat; and when Joe and his chums went touring in the Corsen automobile Si had gone on a similar tour in another car.

“He’ll be wanting a flying machine himself, mark my words,” said Link. “And he won’t let his father rest until he gets it.”

“It would be fun if he did get a machine. Then we might have something of a race,” said Bart.

“I don’t know if I’d want to race with Si Voup,” answered Fred. “I’d not do it if there was anybody else to race with. I am willing to let him entirely alone--if he’ll only let me alone.”

“That’s the way I feel about it,” said Joe.

A short while later the aviator announced that he was willing to go up again. It was now Fred’s turn to fly and he took the seat Harry had vacated.

“We’ll sail to the end of the field and out on the lake away from the boats,” announced James Slosson. “Then, if we come down, we’ll do no damage excepting to ourselves.”

“I don’t want to come down--that is, not until we’re ready to do it,” answered the stout youth, grimly.

With much interest the others started the propellers and watched the rising of the _Skylark_. The biplane made a beautiful “get-away,” as some aviators call it, and sailed to the far end of the field before turning out over the water. On this flight James Slosson made two large circles, remaining aloft about eight minutes.

“Why, that was grand!” declared Fred, on alighting. “When we first went up my heart was in my throat. But I soon got used to it. The _Skylark_ sails like a sloop on a mill pond.”

“That is because the air is just right,” said the aviator, with a smile. “On a windy day it would be quite different.”

Bart was the next to go up. He begged that the flight be a short one, so only a single circle was covered, lasting less than five minutes. He came down looking somewhat pale.

“It’s good enough, I suppose,” he said, when questioned. “But I don’t think I was cut out for a birdman.” And this was probably true, for though Bart went up a few times later on, he never seemed to get the enjoyment out of it that the others did.

Link came next, and on this trip the aviator made a figure eight and flew clear to the other side of the lake. The carpenter’s son was delighted. The biplane came down just as the sawmill whistle blew for twelve o’clock.

“I guess I’d better postpone my flight until after dinner,” remarked Joe, who knew his folks would be waiting for him.

“Might as well,” returned the aviator, who had previously remarked that Mr. Corsen had said he might spend the entire day with the boys. “I can come back at half-past one. But what about the machine? Do you want to leave it here?”

“I’ll watch it for you,” put in an old man named Rabig. He did odd jobs around the lumber docks of Lakeport.

“Will you?” returned Joe. “If so, we’ll pay you for your time.”

“I’ve got my dinner in my pail,” went on Rabig. “I can sit here and eat it as well as not.”

“Well, don’t let anybody touch the machine,” was Harry’s warning.

“Nobody won’t touch it while I’m around,” answered the old man, and then he sat down in the shade of the biplane to eat his dinner. By this time the crowd had dispersed, the most of the men and boys going home for their midday meal.

Promising each other to be back by half-past one, Joe and Harry and their friends hurried home.

“Oh, Joe, did you go up in the air?” asked Mrs. Westmore, anxiously. She had not had the courage to go with her husband to the field.

“No, I’m to go up after dinner, mother. Harry went up, and so did Fred and Link and Bart.”

“Oh, Harry, how did it feel?” asked Laura.

“It was fine!” he answered, enthusiastically. “I thought autoing the best ever. But flying beats it all hollow.”

“Somebody said there was an accident,” went on Mrs. Westmore. “The engine wouldn’t run, or something.”

“Oh, that wasn’t much,” answered the son quickly, so that his parent might not become scared. “A little waste got in the supply pipe of the gasoline. We took it out, and now the motor runs as good as can be.”

“Somebody said you almost fell into the lake!”

“Not quite as bad as that, mother. We took a dip down, that’s all--but we landed in the field, just as originally intended.”

Dinner was ready, but all waited for Mr. Westmore, who had gone from the field to his store. Presently he came in and sat down.

“Joe, you must be very careful how the biplane is used in the future,” said the flour and feed merchant, as he carved the steak on the platter before him. “That Voup boy and the Boardman boy are telling everybody you are reckless and will smash into somebody before long. Folks will be getting nervous, unless you can show them that there is no danger.”

“We’ll be as careful as possible, sir,” answered Joe. “And when I see Si and Ike again I’ll tell them they had better mind their own business,” he added, somewhat warmly.

“Oh, do not get into another quarrel,” pleaded Mrs. Westmore. “You boys seem to quarrel all the time!”

“Well, Si and Ike have no right to talk as they do,” said Harry.

“True. But remember the old saying: ‘The least said the soonest mended,’” answered the mother.

“So you are to go up this afternoon, Joe,” said Mr. Westmore. “I wish you success.”

“Wouldn’t you like to try it yourself, Dad?”

“Hardly!” and Mr. Westmore laughed. “I’m too old to learn such new tricks. I’ll stay on the ground. When are you going up?”

“About two o’clock, I think.”

“Then I may be over to see the flight.”