CHAPTER XV
THE HYDRO-AEROPLANE
The general manager of the Springfield Novelty Manufacturing Company was plainly anxious and he could hardly wait for Lamar Chase to get rid of the new crowd that was gathering.
“I want to see you about something, Chase,” the two boys heard him say, as he leaned over a small counter that had been put up for writing purposes.
“All right, in a minute, Mason,” returned the plow man. “I’ve got to ’tend to the people here.”
“Well, hurry up--I can’t stay here all day,” grumbled Thomas Mason.
Joe and Fred looked at each other knowingly. They were behind the wall of a tent that covered some farming machinery, and neither of the men could see them.
“Now, what is it?” they heard Lamar Chase ask, presently, after he had explained the working of the patented plow to some farmers and waited until he had answered their questions and gotten them to take some of his pamphlets.
“I had some visitors this morning, Chase--two boys from Lakeport,” said Thomas Mason.
“Well, how does that concern me?” growled the plow man.
“They came to see me about some stock in our concern--some stock they said Andrew Akers had offered to Horace Westmore, father of one of the boys.”
“Phew!” whistled the plow man. “Said he had offered it, eh?”
“Yes. They wanted to know if it was good stock and O. K., and all that.”
“What did you tell them?”
“I told them they would have to bring me the certificate from Akers before I would give them any information.”
“Did they say they would get it?”
“No. They tried to make me admit that he owned the stock, but I told them I didn’t keep a list of the stockholders in my head and I wouldn’t look up the company’s records for them without they showed the certificate.”
“I see,” responded Lamar Chase, dryly.
“Now look here, Chase, we have got to get down to business,” pursued Thomas Mason, earnestly. “I’ve got to know just what I can do and what I can’t do. You must know that just as well as I do.”
“I told you what you can do, Mason.”
“I can’t do that, Chase.”
“All right, then; we’ll let the matter drop.”
“But what good will that do you?” cried the manager of the novelty company, angrily. “You can’t do anything alone and you know it.”
“Perhaps I can--anyway, I can try.”
“And lose the chance to make a couple of thousand dollars,” stormed Thomas Mason.
“If I do it will be my loss, not yours, Mason. This is the first chance I have had in years to make real money and I am going to take it. You can either take my offer, or--well, I’ll see what I can do on my own hook.” And Lamar Chase spoke with great earnestness.
“You want too much, I tell you.”
“Only my share.”
“You don’t realize that I am running all the risk.”
“Who ran the first risk?”
“We won’t quarrel about that. Then it’s your idea to share and share alike?”
“Absolutely.”
Thomas Mason growled something under his breath that the two boys could not catch. Then Lamar Chase started to speak, but at that moment came a sudden cry from a crowd near by.
“Look out for that horse!”
A small boy with a toy balloon had walked in front of a horse attached to a buggy, scaring the animal. The horse danced from one side to the other and tried to get away from his driver, and there was considerable confusion. Part of the crowd backed into the tent where Fred and Joe were standing, and the lads were forced to raise a back flap in order to get out. Then they found themselves in another crowd and jostled still further away from the place presided over by Lamar Chase.
“We had better be getting back,” said Joe, when the temporary excitement was over and the horse had been quieted down. “We are losing the most important part of that talk.”
“Come on, I’m ready to go back,” answered the stout youth.
But getting back was not so easy, for the crowd was still thick, and two policemen had run up and they forced the boys to go another way, around a shed devoted to poultry. But the lads hurried all they could, and when they got close enough saw that Thomas Mason and Lamar Chase were still talking earnestly.
“Then that is settled?” they heard the novelty company man say.
“Yes.”
“And you will see me in a day or two?”
“Just as soon as the fair closes and I can wind up matters here, Mason.”
“And I can depend upon you, Chase?”
“Absolutely. I never yet went back on my word--you know that.”
“All right, then. I’ll go ahead as we agreed,” said Thomas Mason; and a moment later he turned and walked away rapidly, in the direction of the fairgrounds gate.
“Too bad!” cried Joe. “I believe we missed the most important part of their talk.”
“So do I,” returned Fred. “What shall we do next, follow him?”
“I don’t think it would do any good. And, besides, we’d miss the hydro-aeroplane exhibition.”
“Joe, do you think Mr. Mason has the missing certificate?” went on the stout youth, as the pair turned in the direction of the lake. The majority of those on the grounds were now moving in the same direction, all anxious to see what the aviator might do with his new air and water machine.
“No, I do not, Fred.”
“You don’t!” cried the stout youth, in astonishment.
“That is what I said.”
“Do you mean to say you don’t think Mr. Akers was robbed?”
“Oh, no. But I think this Lamar Chase has the certificate.”
“Oh!”
“This is the way I figure it, although I may be all wrong. I imagine that both Mason and Chase know Mr. Akers and have had dealings with him, and we know that these two men here are friendly and have had numerous dealings in the past. Now I think both knew about this stock and one or the other suggested that they get hold of the certificate. Lamar Chase, on the day he visited Joel Runnell’s cottage, saw Mr. Akers there and made up his mind to watch the old man. He did so, saw Mr. Akers hide the black box, and opened it and took the certificate and maybe the other papers. Then he let Thomas Mason know about it. Mason wanted to give him two thousand dollars for the certificate, and perhaps the other papers, but Chase wanted more--he wanted to share and share alike. And now that is what Mason has agreed to do.”
“I believe you are right--it all fits in so well with what we know and have heard!” cried Fred. “But what is our next move?”
“We’ll go home this evening and tell my father and yours about it. I think we’d better leave it to them. They may set a private detective at work.”
Once at the lake shore the two lads, for the time being, forgot all about the errand that had brought them to Springfield. They got as close to the hydro-aeroplane as they could, and examined the craft with interest.
The machine was about the size of the _Skylark_, but had a far more powerful engine--one of a hundred horse power, so one of the working-men said. The rudders were all far to the rear, and instead of a steering wheel there were several levers to be manipulated. At the bottom were four air-tight pontoons, or flatboats, of heavy sheet metal, painted green, two in the center and a smaller one at either side. The machine was fastened to the pontoons by means of hollow metal rods, of the gaspipe variety, and by a number of wire stays.
“There she goes!” cried the crowd, presently, and as the cry arose the hydro-aeroplane was shoved across a smooth float onto the calm waters of the lake. There the curious craft floated as on an even keel but with a slight tilt backward.
“Wants a little weight in front,” remarked Fred.
“And here it is,” replied Joe, and then a cheer arose as the aviator appeared, clad in a waterproof suit and cap. He crawled forward through the machine and took the single seat, and then the affair looked to be balanced evenly all around.
“All ready! Let her go!” came a minute later, and then followed a popping from the engine and the propellers began to whir around, faster and faster. The crowd stopped cheering and gazed in open-mouthed expectancy.
Suddenly the hydro-aeroplane left the float and went skimming up the long lake. On and on over the surface of the water it skimmed, sending a fine spray flying around it. The crowd sent up a roar.
“Look at that thing go!”
“A regular sea-bird, ain’t it?”
“Say, that beats a motor boat all to pieces!”
“Talk about your ferries! A fellow could cross the lake in about ten seconds in one of those things!”
The crowd watched the hydro-aeroplane almost out of sight. Then the air-and-water machine made a wide curve and started to come back. Closer and closer it came to the float and the lake shore, lined with many thousands of spectators.
“Say, maybe he’ll run into us!”
“No, he won’t! He knows what he is doing.”
Presently the explosions of the motor increased. Then the rudder control was shifted, and with a whizz the hydro-aeroplane suddenly left the bosom of the lake and slanted skyward, over the heads of the gaping crowd. Up and up it went, into the sunshine, until it was fully three hundred feet in the air. Then the aviator began to circle the main fairground buildings and the race course.
“Say, that’s fine!” cried Joe. “It’s immense!”
“What a fine getaway he made from the lake,” added Fred. “Why, he sailed up like a wild duck leaving the water!”
The chums watched the course of the hydro-aeroplane with rapt attention, as did everybody else in the crowd. It circled around twice and then made a figure eight.
“By gum! I never thought I’d live to see it!” gasped an old farmer, standing by. “Sails on the water an’ in the air! Well, I’ll be switched!” and he shook his beard in wonder.
“He’s coming back!” said Fred, a minute later, and this announcement proved true. Straight for the lake sailed the hydro-aeroplane, coming down lower and lower. Then it shot along for several hundred feet on an even keel and at last touched the surface of the water with a slight splash. Up the lake it went once more, and then made a slow turn and came back. The power was shut off, and like some gigantic white swan it came silently back to the float and stopped there.
For several seconds the crowd was silent, then came a cheering and a handclapping that could be heard a long distance off. The daring hydro-aeroplanist got up and bowed and smiled and raised his cap. Then he leaped to the float and disappeared into a boathouse, leaving the machine to his assistants. The show was over for the day, and gradually the larger portion of the crowd dispersed, only a small number remaining behind to inspect the hydro-aeroplane and see it rolled back to an ice-house that was being used for a hangar.
“And now for home!” cried Fred. “Joe, wasn’t that fine?”
“Yes, indeed! I am glad we saw it. It’s great sport!”
“Better than plain flying, eh?”
“As good, anyway. But I’m going to learn plain flying first,” added the Westmore youth, with a smile.
[Illustration: THEN IT SHOT ALONG FOR SEVERAL HUNDRED FEET ON AN EVEN KEEL.]