CHAPTER XIX

HUNTING FOR THE “SKYLARK”

“Gone!”

Such was the single word that burst from Harry’s lips as the biplane faded from view. All of the lads strained their eyes for a further sight of the _Skylark_, but in vain.

“Shall we wait?” questioned Fred, turning a sober face to his chums.

“How can we follow him?” questioned Harry. “Why, he must be miles away by this time!”

“He was almost over the Rockton road,” answered Joe, slowly. “We might cross the lake in some boat and take our bicycles along and go after him on our wheels.”

“I’ll take you across in the _Sprite_,” said Paul Shale, who was present. “My uncle said I could use the sloop all day, if I wanted to.”

“Have you got her handy?” asked Joe, quickly.

“Yes, she’s down at the lumber dock now.”

“Then let us go over in her!” cried Harry, quickly. “Come on, we’ll get the wheels and be on the way in a jiffy!”

Filled with the idea of following the unfortunate Link, the various lads ran off to their homes to get their machines. Only Harry remained behind--to help Paul get the _Sprite_ under way when the others should come back. Joe brought his brother’s bicycle as well as his own, and Fred got Paul’s wheel for him.

“See anything of the flying machine?” asked Joe, as he came back, riding his wheel and guiding his brother’s beside him.

“No,” returned both Harry and Paul.

Soon the others came back and all got aboard the handsome sloop belonging to Mr. Richard Shale, the craft in which they had had so many adventures in the past. The _Sprite_ was amply large to accommodate all of them and also the wheels, which were lashed fast in the bow. The boys sat down in the stern, and the _Sprite_ was shoved off and the mainsail hoisted, and they stood away from Lakeport, a crowd seeing them depart. Most of the inhabitants of the town thought Link was merely taking an extra long flight, and the boys did not tell them the truth--that it had been agreed to take short flights only--for they did not wish to alarm anybody, least of all the parents of Link Darrow.

Paul knew how to handle the dainty sloop to advantage, so the others allowed him to have his own way in crossing the lake, Harry and Fred assisting only when necessary. The run was a short one, and soon the _Sprite_ glided into a tiny cove and up to a dock used occasionally by the farmers of that vicinity. Beyond the dock was a country road leading to the village of Rockton, two miles away.

“Going to leave the _Sprite_ here?” queried Joe, as he went ashore, carrying his wheel.

“Yes,” answered Paul. “I think she’ll be safe enough. I have done it many times.”

Soon all were on the road, on their bicycles, and Joe led the way, setting a pace that taxed the muscles of Fred and Harry. But nobody complained, for all were anxious to ascertain what had become of Link. All kept glancing at the sky as they moved forward, but nothing that looked like an aircraft came into view.

“If only he wasn’t hurt!” murmured Joe. “If he was----” He did not finish, but shook his head dolefully.

The boys were just entering Rockton when they saw a man coming towards them in a buggy and driving a spirited horse.

“It’s Mr. Merton!” exclaimed Fred, naming the main storekeeper of Rockton. “Let’s ask him if he saw the biplane.” And they put the question to the man.

“Did I see it?” queried Mr. Merton. “Just guess I did! Why, the first thing I knew it came whizzing over my head, and Dolly jumped about three feet into the air and came near shying into a stone wall.”

“Do you know which way it went?” asked Joe.

“Went a little south of Rockton--in the direction of Crowell’s Corners.”

“Did you see the boy running it?” questioned Paul.

“Saw somebody. Was it a boy?”

“Yes, Link Darrow--son of the carpenter.”

“You don’t say! Well, he’s a brave one to dare to go up in such a new-fandangled thing!” was Mr. Merton’s comment. “I wouldn’t go up in one for a thousand dollars!”

“Went off in the direction of Crowell’s Corners,” mused Fred, as the crowd wheeled on. “That’s about four miles from here.”

“But it’s a good road all the way now,” added Paul. “They fixed it up this spring.”

On and on went the boys, occasionally gazing skyward as before. After leaving Rockton behind they kept on for nearly a mile and then stopped at a farmhouse to ask about the missing biplane and its young aviator. The farmer had seen the flying machine and told how it had been headed.

“He was flying pretty low,” went on the man. “I rather think he was looking for some place where he could land.”

“Well, there are plenty of places around here,” answered Fred.

The boys decided to take to a side road leading in the direction the farmer had pointed out. Here going was not so good, the bicycles occasionally getting stuck in the sand. Then they reached a point where the woods were thick.

“If he came down here he’d be likely to have a smash-up,” was Joe’s comment.

“Let’s give the yell,” suggested Fred. “He may be within hearing distance.” And the boys gave their old familiar call, not once but several times, and Harry added his “locomotive whistle,” as he called it, by means of putting two fingers in his mouth. Then all listened intently. But no answer came back.

“We’ll go on again,” said Fred. “We are bound to reach him sooner or later--unless the biplane got so jammed it simply couldn’t come down.”

They passed several paths and side roads, leading to they knew not where. Then they came to a regular crossroads and here halted once more.

“Which way?” queried Paul.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” answered Harry, and all the others gazed at both roads blankly.

“Guess it’s a toss-up,” was Joe’s comment.

“No, it isn’t!” came quickly from Paul. “Which way is the wind blowing?”

“Of course!” burst out the younger Westmore lad. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

They soon caught the direction of the breeze, which was blowing along the road to the left, and they turned in that direction, satisfied that Link must have either sailed with the wind, or against it, rather than crosswise of the current of air.

“I see an open field!” cried Joe, who had once more pushed to the front. “It’s almost level, too--just the place for a landing!”

“And there is the _Skylark_!” burst out Harry, pointing to one end of the cleared space. Then he let out his “locomotive whistle” once more.

All of the boys rode as closely as possible to where the biplane rested. Then they leaped the wire fence of the field and rushed over to the flying machine. It rested safely on its wheels and seemed none the worse for its flight of five or six miles. But Link was nowhere to be seen.

“Where can he be?”

“Did he tumble out?”

These were the next questions that the boys of Lakeport asked themselves. The face of more than one turned pale. Supposing their chum had really fallen from the aeroplane? Such a tumble would most likely mean death or frightful injuries.

“We--we’ll have to take a look around,” faltered Fred, in a low voice.

“That’s right,” answered Harry. “Wonder in just what direction he came?”

“Oh, he must have come in a bee-line from Lakeport,” answered Paul. “And our town is over there,” and he pointed with his finger.

“There is a farmhouse,” exclaimed Joe. “Maybe the folks that live there can tell us something about him.”

With heavy hearts the boys trudged across the field in the direction of the farmhouse, which was set in a grove of trees and bushes. As they got closer, Joe set up a sudden and happy shout:

“There he is! There’s Link!”

“Sure enough!” added Fred. “And he seems to be all right, too!” he went on in relieved tones.

“Hello, Link!” shouted Paul.

“Why, hello!” answered the carpenter’s son, in amazement. “How in the world did you get here?”

“Came on our wheels,” answered Fred. “Are you all right?”

“Sure I am.”

“Why didn’t you come back?” demanded Joe. “You scared us ’most to death.”

“I couldn’t get back. Didn’t you see that big kite hit me? Well, it went to pieces against the steering wheel and the stuff got all tangled up in the wires, so I couldn’t turn around. The best I could do was to keep straight on and it wasn’t for quite a while that I managed to get things fixed so I could come down. I went up higher and higher and I was pretty well scared I can tell you. But at last I got her turned downward, and then I looked for some field to land in. As soon as I saw this spot I came down. I hit the grass pretty hard, but I guess the _Skylark_ wasn’t damaged any. But we’ve got to get that kite stuff out of the wires and go over the controls carefully before we use her again.”

“I’m awfully glad you weren’t hurt, Link!” cried Harry, affectionately.

“We’re all glad,” added Fred.

“As soon as I came down I looked over the biplane and saw it was not damaged, and then I walked over to this farmhouse, to see if I couldn’t send a telephone message to you folks, so you wouldn’t worry about me,” went on the carpenter’s son. “But they haven’t any telephone.”

“It won’t be necessary to telephone now,” answered Joe. “If the biplane is all right, one of us can sail it back to Lakeport.”

“Who?” demanded Fred.

“I will, if the others are willing,” answered Joe. “But I want to give it a try-out first.”

“Let us look her over,” said his brother.

Accompanied by the farmer who owned the place, his wife, and two full-grown sons, the boys of Lakeport hurried over to where the _Skylark_ rested. The folks of the farm were deeply interested in the machine and said they would assist in getting it ready for another flight.

“It sure is great traveling,” remarked one of the sons of the farmer. “Beats a horse on a plank road all hollow!”

The lads needed no help, and they personally saw to it that the wreck of the big kite was cleared away, and then tested every wire, and every other part of the biplane with care. This took them nearly an hour.

“I guess she’s all right now,” said Joe, at last. “I’ll try her over this field and that beyond,” and this was done. The _Skylark_ went up with ease, and the elder Westmore youth found that the controls now worked as well as ever.

“Now for the flight back to Lakeport,” said Fred. “Do you think you can manage it, Joe? You’ll have to face the wind.”

“I think I can, Fred. There is very little breeze.”

“Be careful,” warned Harry.

“I’ll take care of your bicycle,” added Link.

Then the motor was started up once more, and Joe took his seat. With a cheer from his chums and the boys of the farm, the _Skylark_ shot into the air, and Joe headed for Lakeport, little dreaming of the strange adventure that lay in store for him.