CHAPTER VII

JOE LAYS DOWN THE LAW

For a minute there was silence, as one crowd glared at the other. Joe and his friends hardly knew how to proceed. Old Freedick came out of the cabin, to see what was going on.

“Call that a flying machine?” he drawled. “I thought it was some newfangled reaper and binder.”

“It’s a flying machine, Mr. Freedick, and it belongs to us,” answered Harry. “These fellows had no right to touch it.”

“Don’t you believe that!” burst out Si Voup. “They never owned such a machine. We found it in the woods and we mean to keep it--at least until the real owner shows up.”

“Si Voup, you listen to me!” said Joe, quietly but sternly. “I tell you this machine belongs to my friends and me. It did belong to a Mr. Andrew Akers, but he got tired of owning it and he gave it to us. I have a paper to prove it, signed by Mr. Akers and witnessed by Joel Runnell. Now then, if you don’t give us our property, do you know what I intend to do? Go right back to Lakeport and swear out warrants for your arrest,--and I’ll see to it that you are locked up and don’t get off as easily as you have in the past.”

“Have me locked up?” exclaimed the rich bully.

“Yes, you and Ike, and these men with you.”

“Lock me up?” queried Ike Boardman, and his voice quivered somewhat as he spoke.

“Exactly--and I’ll press the charge to the limit of the law,” went on Joe. “I am tired of putting up with your dirty actions. I’ve let you off several times--I’ll not do it again. So take your choice. Are you going to give up our property, or shall I swear out the warrants?”

“See here, you can’t scare us,” began Dick Shallow.

“Don’t let him bluff you, Si,” added Tom Powers.

“This is no bluff, as you’ll soon find out,” answered Joe. “What do you say, fellows?” And he turned to his companions.

“That’s the talk, Joe!”

“Have them locked up!”

“They ought to be in jail!”

“It will cool Si and Ike off to put them behind the bars for awhile!”

“Say, Si,” whispered Ike Boardman to his crony. “Do you think they really mean it?” He was plainly growing nervous, and for a good reason. His parents had warned him not to allow Si to lead him into trouble, under penalty of sending him to a very strict boarding school.

“I--er--I don’t think so,” stammered the rich bully; yet he, too, was disturbed, for his father, only the week previous, had read him a lecture and told him to behave himself.

“Well, what are you going to do?” demanded Joe, sharply. He saw that the enemy was wavering.

“How do we know this is your machine?” demanded Si, lamely.

“I gave you the facts, Si, and every fellow with me knows they are true.”

“That’s right,” came in a chorus.

“You don’t suppose we’d say we owned the flying machine if it wasn’t true,” added Fred.

“Humph! Well--er--if it really is your machine you--er--you ought to pay us for getting it down out of the trees,” grumbled Ike Boardman.

“Of course they’ve got to pay us,” put in Dick Shallow, as he saw the prospect of getting some money out of the biplane fading away. He and Powers had been promised ten dollars each by Si for their assistance.

“I don’t see why we should pay you,” answered Harry. “You had no right to touch the machine. For all we know, you may have broken something on it.”

“We didn’t break a thing,” said Tom Powers.

“If we give the flying machine up, you’ll have to pay these two men for helping to get it down,” said Si, sourly.

“Not a cent!” cried Bart.

“If they are to be paid, you can do it, Si,” added Link.

“Me?” roared the bully. “Not much! Why, I worked like everything to get the thing out of the trees! I ought to be paid myself!”

“Well, you can settle that part of it between yourselves,” said Joe. “Now, what I want to know is: Are you going to give up the machine right now, or shall I get those warrants and have them served?”

“Oh, go on and let ’em take the old machine!” cried Ike Boardman. “It isn’t good for anything, anyway!”

“All right, you can have your old machine,” muttered Si, with very bad grace.

“But who is going to pay us?” demanded Dick Shallow.

“That’s right--we want our money,” added Tom Powers. “I’m not going to work all night for nothing!”

“Did Si hire you?” asked Harry.

“Yes, he did,” came from both men.

“Then he ought to pay you,” answered Fred.

“He’ll have to do it,” growled Tom Powers, who was a big man and what is usually known as a “scrapper.”

“Sure, he’ll have to pay us,” added Dick Shallow.

“I won’t pay a cent!” roared Si. “Come on, Ike,” he went on, to his crony. “Let us go home.”

Both started into the cabin, to get some of their belongings. Their actions displeased the two helpers very much, and the men held a whispered consultation.

“You’ve got to pay us,” stormed Tom Powers, as Si and Ike came out again with bundles. “You can’t run off this way,” and as the boys hurried off, the two men followed them, arguing loudly and acting as if they wanted to fight.

“Si and Ike are in hot water now,” was Harry’s comment. “If they don’t look out they’ll both get a beating.”

“Well, let them settle their troubles themselves,” returned Joe. He drew a long breath. “I am glad they went away.” And the other boys echoed the sentiment.

“I don’t know if we are worse off, or better,” said Fred, after the sounds of the angry voices had died away in the distance. “The flying machine is out of the trees, but we are further away from home than we were.”

“I think we had better inspect the machine first, and see just what condition the parts are in,” said Joe.

“Oh, I hope the engine isn’t broken!” burst out Harry. “We can fix the other parts, I think, but an engine----”

The boys commenced to work over the dismantled biplane and soon had the canvas stretches and the rudders separated from the central portion, that containing the motor, the gasoline tank, and the steering apparatus. They looked at the engine with care.

“Seems to be O. K.,” was Joe’s comment. “But the best way to find out would be to try it.”

“Could we do that?” queried his brother.

“I don’t know; I’ll try to find out.”

“The gasoline tank is all right and has some gasoline in it,” announced Bart.

“And the battery wires look to be all right,” came from Link.

“Look out that you don’t blow us up,--if you do start the engine,” said Paul.

“And that the machine doesn’t run away with itself,” added Matt. “I’m too tired to hunt for a runaway biplane, or anything else.”

The boys set to work in earnest, old Freedick watching them curiously. The hermit wore a quiet smile.

“Made them fellers pay fer breakfast before they ate it,” he chuckled. “Glad I did--otherwise I’d be without my money.”

“More than likely,” answered Fred.

At last Joe announced that he was ready to test the motor. There was no crank as on an automobile, but instead the propellers had to be twirled around. The central portion of the biplane was propped up on some logs and tied down with ropes. Then the electric spark and gasoline were turned on and the boys got ready to turn the propellers.

“Now!” yelled Joe, and Bart and Harry gave a vigorous twist to the wooden blades. There was no response, and they repeated the operation several times.

“Dead!” was Matt’s laconic comment.

“Something wrong somewhere----” commenced Fred, when bang! bang! bang! went the motor, with such loud explosions that all the lads fell back in alarm, while old Freedick rushed into his cabin and slammed the door behind him. Then the propellers commenced to whirl around, faster and faster, and the central portion of the biplane pulled harder and harder on the ropes that held it.

“Hurrah! she works!” cried Joe, in delight.

“Stop her!” screamed Harry. “If you don’t, you’ll have her flying away!”

Joe stepped forward and turned off the spark and the gasoline. At once the noise of the explosions died away and gradually the propellers came to a stop. For an instant there was silence.

“Hurrah!” yelled Link, throwing up his cap. And then a general cheer followed. Evidently the motor--the main portion of the flying machine--was in good working order.

“Is she--is she busted?” asked old Freedick, as he cautiously thrust his head out of the cabin doorway.

“Not at all, Mr. Freedick, she’s all right,” answered Fred.

“By gum! I thought by the noise she made she was a-going to blow us all to kingdom come!” murmured the old hermit. “Sounded like a company o’ soldiers firing rifles!”

“Well, now we are sure the motor is all right, let us start to get the machine to Lakeport,” said Joe, after a pause. “Link, what do you think--had we better take it over to the main road, or go to the back road?”

“Why not go to the back road--it’s shorter,” answered the carpenter’s son. “I can bring the wagon up that way as well as the other.”

“Somebody will have to go back for the auto.”

“Sure--I want you to take me to Lakeport in it--I’m not going to walk back to get the wagon.”

“I’ll take you to Lakeport,” said Harry. “And then I’ll come out with you in your father’s wagon;” and so it was arranged, and the two boys started off a few minutes later, not only for the touring car but also for the tackle left in the woods.

Getting the biplane through the woods to the back road was no easy task, and the boys had to make two trips of it, taking the motor portion first and then returning for the planes and rudders. By the time they had accomplished the task it was noon, and all were glad enough to rest and partake of lunch. Old Freedick had aided them some and was grateful when the boys paid him a dollar for his services.

It was not until two o’clock that Link appeared with his father’s largest wagon, drawn by a pair of powerful horses. Harry was on the seat with him, and both had had dinner before leaving Lakeport.

“Now to get the motor part into the wagon,” said Joe. “I guess we’ll have to slide it up on logs.”

“I’ve got a plan,” cried Fred. “See that sloping rock? Put the motor on that and then Link can back up the wagon and we can slide the part right from the rock into the wagon;” and this was presently done. Then the planes and rudder and other portions of the biplane were loaded on the turnout, and the crowd was ready to start for home.

“We can’t all ride--it will be too much of a load,” said Link. “All I want is one fellow to steady the load going up and down the hills.”

“We’ll tie the load fast,” answered Joe, “and then all of us can walk but Link. No use in wearing the horses out.”

But Link would not hear of this, and in the end each of the boys was allowed to rest his legs by driving the team for awhile, the others tramping on either side of the wagon.

It was almost sundown when Lakeport was reached. Soon the news spread that the boys were bringing in a flying machine and a crowd of curious men and boys followed them to the Darrow carpenter shop. Here the entire lower floor of the big building was cleared, and then the lads proceeded to unload the parts of the biplane, Mr. Darrow and several other men helping them.

“Going to fly in it?” asked one of the men, of Joe.

“I don’t know yet,” answered the youth. He hoped he would be allowed to make the attempt, but was afraid that, after all, his mother might withhold her permission for him to do so.