CHAPTER XVIII

LINK AND THE BIG KITE

But with all their wishes to do something for Andrew Akers, Joe and his chums were unable to make a move in that direction, for the simple reason that they knew not in which way to begin. They paid another visit to Cresco, and had a talk with Joel Runnell, and with his daughter Cora, who had come back, and even visited the police station, yet all to no purpose.

“We are doing what we can to locate the man,” said the chief of police. “But so far we have no trace of him. I think he has left these parts entirely.”

One day Fred went to Springfield, taking Harry along, and stopping at his aunt’s home as before for dinner. The two walked past the novelty and the plow places, but saw nothing of Thomas Mason or Lamar Chase. They also visited the authorities and a place at which Andrew Akers had boarded before or after leaving Bralham. The police knew nothing about the man, and his boarding mistress said that a trunk of his clothing was still at her place and she did not know what to do with it.

“He was a queer stick,” said the woman. “Sometimes I thought he was a bit off here,” and she tapped her forehead.

“Perhaps he was,” admitted Fred. “I wish we could find him, for it is quite important.”

“And I wish he would send for his trunk and things,” responded the woman.

“Is there any mail here for him?” questioned Harry.

“No, he didn’t get his mail here. I think he had a lock box at the post-office, but I am not sure.”

This gave the boys a new idea, and they visited the post-office. Here, after considerable formality, they learned that Mr. Akers’s mail was being held for him and had been so held for a long time, by request.

“But it will go to the dead letter office soon, if he doesn’t come for it, or if the police don’t use it to try to get some trace of him,” said a clerk.

In the meantime the mystery concerning the disappearance of Si Voup and Ike Boardman had come to an end, so far as the general public was concerned. The two rich boys were home once more, although when they had returned only their folks knew. The motor boat was at the dock and was much scratched up, as if it had seen rough usage.

“Wonder where they have been?” said Link, when he and Harry and Matt met Si and Ike on the street. “I understand they are as mum as an oyster about it.”

“In that case you may be sure that they got into some kind of trouble,” was Harry’s comment.

“Have you seen anything of the two men they took out?” questioned Matt.

“No, they don’t seem to be around,” returned the carpenter’s son.

The Westmore boys and their chums were as enthusiastic as ever to learn how to fly, and every day during the following week they took lessons from James Slosson. He proved a good instructor, and announced that the Westmore boys and Fred and Link were good pupils. Over Bart, however, he shook his head.

“I don’t believe you like it very much,” he said. “And if you don’t, you had better not try it alone.”

“I don’t think I will,” answered the big youth. “When I go up it can be as a passenger;” and so it was arranged.

The coming of the biplane to Lakeport had created much excitement, and as was to be expected the boys of the town were especially enthusiastic over it. This led Mr. Rush to lay in a supply of model aeroplanes and also supplies for making them, and soon the lads were buying these models, which were from two to three feet in size and run by the aid of rubber bands, tightly twisted. The boys even got up contests, to see which model could fly the farthest. Some went a distance of several hundred feet, and one,--a particularly well balanced biplane,--covered nearly eight hundred feet. Then Paul Shale got some air-tight silk and made a model dirigible balloon, with a car at the bottom and a propeller also run by rubber bands, and this sailed through the air one day half-way to Glasby’s Hill,--more than a mile and a half.

“Tell you what!” cried Paul, enthusiastically. “Sailing these models is almost as much fun as sailing the real thing.”

“And a heap safer,” added Frank Pemberton, with a grin.

At last came the all-important day when the boys who held an interest in the _Skylark_ were to try to fly the biplane without the aid of their instructor. Straws had been drawn, and it fell to Harry to make the first attempt.

“Now don’t go too high, Harry,” cautioned Joe. “And remember to keep over the lake if possible. But don’t take too short a turn trying to do it.”

The flying machine was carefully examined once more and the engine was given a trial. Then the younger Westmore took his seat. He was to go up alone.

Perhaps Harry’s heart was “in his throat” as the saying goes, but if so, he did not show it. He tried to keep cool, and his “getaway” from the grassy field was perfect. Then with a loud popping of the motor the _Skylark_ arose to a height of about seventy-five feet and sailed out over Pine Lake.

“Good for him!” shouted Fred, enthusiastically. “I guess Harry is a born aviator.”

All watched with deep interest the course of the biplane. It had been arranged that these initial flights should be of short duration--a single flight across the lower end of the lake and back. On and on flew the machine, in a straight course. Then came a broad turn, and the biplane drew towards the starting-point, and in a minute more came down almost at the spot from which it had arisen.

“How did it feel?” questioned several of the lads, as Harry stepped out on the ground. His face was somewhat pale and it was easy to see that the young aviator had been under a considerable strain.

“Oh, it was all right,” Harry answered. “But a chap has got to get used to it before he will feel at home.”

Fred’s trial came next, and he did the same thing that Harry had done, although he came down with something more of a bump, which, however, did no damage.

“Now it’s your turn, Joe!” cried his brother. “Don’t attempt to fly to New York or Chicago.”

“Nothing less than Hong Kong for me,” answered the older Westmore boy, as he took his seat in the biplane.

Once more the motor went off with a bang, and the propellers whirled around. Over the ground started the _Skylark_. But instead of moving in the course previously taken, one of the wheels struck a rock in the field and this sent the flying machine off to the left.

“Hello, he’s headed for the boathouse!” yelled Fred.

“He’ll be smashed up!” cried Matt.

Over the field tore the biplane, gathering speed at every second of the advance. All who were watching were in an agony of mind, fully expecting to see the machine hit the boathouse. Now it was less than a hundred feet away.

“There he goes!” yelled Link, and as he spoke the biplane commenced to rise. Joe had shifted the elevation rudder and up shot the _Skylark_ at a sharp angle, the wheels underneath missing the boathouse roof by less than a foot. Then the machine continued to go up until it had reached a height of over two hundred feet, when the young aviator managed to bring it to a level keel.

“Say, that was a narrow escape!” murmured Harry. His face was white, for he had expected to see the _Skylark_ and Joe smashed to pieces.

“So it was,” answered Fred. “No use in talking, a fellow can’t be too careful in this business.”

“That wasn’t Joe’s fault, Fred.”

“Well, we ought to have noticed that rock.”

“That is true.”

All watched Joe’s flight closely. He now had the _Skylark_ under perfect control, and he made the flight across the lake and back with ease. When he came down he took a long glide, coming to earth almost as lightly as a feather.

“That was some volplaning for you!” cried Fred, who had picked up the expression from James Slosson. “That come-down was as good as Slosson ever did.”

“Joe, weren’t you scared, when you were headed for the boathouse?” asked Fred.

“I didn’t have time to get scared,” was the answer. “I just knew I had to do something, or the machine would hit and I’d be hurt. So I gave the elevation control a quick yank, and up we sailed like a streak. Of course I couldn’t have done that if I hadn’t had a good headway.”

“Well, now it’s my turn,” said Link. “I hope I have as good luck as you fellows,” he added, as he looked the biplane over.

“The main thing is to keep cool and act quickly,” answered Fred. “If a chap loses his head it’s all up with him.”

The biplane was rolled out in a position where the course would be free from obstructions, and Link took his seat and told the others to start up the propellers.

In the meantime, some other boys of the town had come down to the field, to see the flights and also to fly some model aeroplanes and several kites. One kite in particular, owned by a boy named Frank Berry, was a very large affair, made of paper muslin painted to represent a clown.

“Hello! there’s some kite!” remarked Harry, as the big affair went skyward.

“It sure is,” responded Matt. “And what a funny figure on it--just like a circus clown!”

There had been hardly any breeze, but now came a sudden puff, just as the _Skylark_ rushed over the field with Link in the seat. The wind took the big kite and sent it upward.

The Westmore boys and their chums were watching the biplane and for the moment paid no further attention to the big kite. Up into the air shot the _Skylark_ and Link seemed to have it well under control. It left the field and started out over the water. Then Fred uttered a cry.

“Look! look! The kite is right in front of the biplane!”

“Hi! hi! you!” yelled the owner of the kite. “Don’t run my clown down!”

“As if Link could hear him!” said Harry. “Why he couldn’t hear a gunshot--with that motor banging in his ears!”

“O my!” came from Joe, and as he uttered the words all on the ground saw the _Skylark_ swoop into the big kite. The wheel of the flying machine struck first and then the kite went to pieces, scattering over the biplane and hanging fast there.

[Illustration: THEN THE KITE WENT TO PIECES, SCATTERING OVER THE BIPLANE AND HANGING THERE.]

“Oh, I hope Link wasn’t hurt!” cried Harry. “Maybe he got it right in the face!”

“He’s got control anyway,” returned his brother. “I hope the kite didn’t get mixed up in the levers, or wires, or the engine,” he added, anxiously.

All watched the flight of the biplane with increased interest. The machine was too far away to ascertain, even with a field glass which Fred had brought along, whether the carpenter’s son was hurt or not. On and on it flew, straight across the lake and then over the woods beyond.

“He ought to be turning back now,” said Harry, a moment later.

“Well, he doesn’t seem to be doing it,” answered Paul.

“No, he is keeping straight on.”

“Perhaps he wants to show us how far he can fly,” suggested another.

“I don’t think he’d do that,” answered Joe, soberly. “We agreed to make short flights only.”

“Oh, Joe, do you think----” began Harry in alarm.

“Wait and watch,” interrupted the brother.

All waited and saw the _Skylark_ sailing further and further away in the distance. They could no longer hear the explosions from the motor. The flying machine, instead of turning back, kept straight ahead and appeared to be moving further skyward.

“Do you know what I think?” burst out Fred, at last. “That kite got mixed up in the wires and things, and Link has lost control!”

“That must be it!” exclaimed Harry. “Oh, Joe, what shall we do?”

“I don’t know,” responded the brother. “I don’t know that we can do anything, except to go after him.”