The Boy Aviators' Flight for a Fortune

Stealthily they advanced toward the wharf, revolving in their minds as they went what they would do when they got there.

“We’ll have to get that half-witted chap out of the way,” declared Duval, in a low tone, “or he may make an outcry and arouse the whole place.”

“Leave that to me,” Daniels assured him; “we’ll fix him up all right.”

“You don’t mean to hurt him? I don’t want to get mixed up in anything like that,” whimpered Duval, who was somewhat of a coward, as we know.

Daniels actually chuckled.

“Waal, you are a chicken-hearted fool,” he muttered, “but don’t you be scared. There won’t be no necessity of hurtin’ this Plumbo. I can recollect him from a time when I was here years ago. He’s soft-headed and talks poetry. Them two things most allers goes together I’ve found.”

Nothing more was said till they reached the wharf. It was dark and deserted, but in the starlight the dim outlines of the Sea Eagle could be seen as she lay at her moorings.

“I’ll bet a cruller that chap’s asleep,” whispered Zeb, as they crept forward cautiously.

“Hope so. It’ll make our work a lot the easier,” chuckled his worthy father.

But the next moment they had undeniable proof that the watchman was not slumbering. From amidst the ghostly outlines of the Sea Eagle came Plumbo’s voice.

“Who’s there so late? Answer up, mate.”

“Is that you, Plumbo?” said the elder Daniels.

“Yes, this is me, as you can see.”

“How are we goin’ ter see you when it’s so confounded dark?” growled Daniels.

“Well, what do you wish? To bathe or fish?” inquired Plumbo, ignoring this remark. Then he continued:

“You’d better skip. You’ll not board this ship.”

“That’s just what we came here to do,” replied Daniels, in an unruffled tone; “your mother is very ill and we come down to take charge of the air ship while you go home as quick as possible.”

Now poor Plumbo’s love for his widowed mother was a matter of common talk in the village, and the cunning of the elder Daniels had suggested this scheme to him as they came along. It worked even better than he had dared to expect. The rhyming watchman gave a gasp of pained astonishment.

“I must go home; though I ought not to roam,” he said.

“Make your mind easy about that, lad,” Daniels assured him; “we’ll watch this cloud clipper while you’re gone. Dr. Perkins told us to stay here while you are gone.”

“I’ll go home in a hurry; be back in a scurry,” declared Plumbo, who was completely taken in. His none too acute brain had been easily imposed upon by Daniels’ rascally trick. He scrambled up on the wharf and at once set off on a run for his home, crying as he went:

“Watch every crack till I can get back.”

“Oh, go to the dickens while we get our pickin’s,” growled out young Zeb Daniels, at which specimen of wit his father laughed heartily, though in a subdued way.

“Now, then, boys,” said Daniels, as Plumbo’s footsteps died away, “get busy and spile this cruise for that bunch of fine gentlemen. We’ll show ’em what it means to try to take folks’ livings away.”

CHAPTER XX. – FRANK’S BATTLE

It was about midnight that Frank, for no reason that he could explain, awakened with a vague feeling of uneasiness. Try as he would he could not compose himself to sleep again, but lay awake, struggling with a sort of intuitive suspicion that all was not well with the Sea Eagle.

At last, so strong did his conviction become, that, although he was ridiculing his fears all the time, he arose and dressed himself, and then started out for the wharf. For a moment he thought he would rouse Harry, who slept on another bed in the same room; but in the end he decided not to disturb his brother’s repose. Perhaps he had a vague fear of ridicule, but at any rate Frank crept out of the hotel alone and made his way silently down the dark and empty streets.

“This is certainly a fool’s errand I’m going on,” he told himself; “I suppose that my reward for my pains will be to hear some more of Plumbo’s poetry, and yet – and yet, I can’t help it. I couldn’t sleep another wink unless I was sure that the Sea Eagle was all right.”

Musing thus, and minimizing his own fears, Frank came in due time to the wharf. He made his way down it and was about to step forward to descend the ladder that led to the Sea Eagle’s deck, when he heard something that made him pause. He recognized the sound instantly.

It was the rasp of a file!

“My gracious! Somebody is tampering with the Sea Eagle!” exclaimed the boy to himself. “My fears were not as groundless as I thought them, after all. I wonder if that rascal Duval – ”

The current of his thoughts was suddenly checked at this point by another noise near at hand. It seemed to come from behind a big pile of boxes on the wharf.

“Goodness! What’s that?” thought Frank, and then for the first time it flashed across him that if more than one man was engaged in the nefarious work that he was sure was going on, he was at a serious disadvantage. He had no weapons but his hands, whereas the others were undoubtedly well armed.

“I’ll slip back uptown as quickly as I can and arouse the authorities,” he decided, “if they are quick we can catch the rascals red-handed. I wonder what can have become of that fellow Jumbo or whatever his name was? I suppose he went to sleep or something. Well, it serves us right for leaving such an eccentric fellow on guard.”

Frank, who had been crouching in the shadow of the very boxes behind which he had heard the suspicious sounds, rose quickly to his feet. He was just slipping off, congratulating himself that he had been unobserved when from behind the boxes a dark figure suddenly emerged.

“Hands up, Frank Chester,” it exclaimed; “we’ve got you where we want you this time.”

“Zeb Daniels!” exclaimed Frank, dumbfounded with astonishment. He had not supposed the rascally young fisherman within miles of the place.

“Yes; that’s me. Don’t move a step or you’ll get hurt.”

But Frank’s indignation overcame his prudence.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded angrily.

“None of your business.”

“It isn’t, eh? Well I know that you are damaging Dr. Perkins’ boat in some way and – ”

Frank stepped deftly aside as Zeb, who was a far heavier, stronger boy than the young aviator, made a tigerish jump at him, at the same time brandishing a thick club threateningly.

But Zeb’s sudden rush proved his undoing. Before he could recover his balance Frank had planted a clean, hard punch on the young ruffian’s jaw, and Zeb reeled back dizzily. He recovered himself almost instantly, however, and without making a sound hurled himself at Frank once more. In a rough and tumble fight the sturdily built fisher boy might have been a match for Frank Chester, but Frank had already gained some advantage and he met Zeb’s frenzied charge coolly.

Zeb, as he got within reach, let loose a tremendous swing which, if it had struck Frank’s head as his burly young opponent intended, might have laid him flat. But to his astonishment Zeb’s fist met only empty air. Frank had ducked the blow with consummate ease, and the next instant:

One! Two! – Crack! Smack! Two well-planted blows landed on Zeb’s face and body. Frank was rushing in to complete his victory when he was suddenly seized from behind in a powerful grip and hurled to the ground with great violence.

Zeb’s father, on board the Sea Eagle, had heard the disturbance, and had swiftly and silently climbed the ladder leading up on to the wharf. Behind him, but at a prudent distance, came Duval. The Frenchman had no love for fighting, unless the odds were all in his favor, and he was by no means certain how many men might have attacked them.

The elder Daniels took in the situation in a flash, and pinioned Frank’s arms, just as the latter was about to put an end to the battle. Duval saw instantly that there was no personal danger to himself, and while the elder Daniels held a grimy, leathery paw over Frank’s mouth to prevent his shouting for aid, Duval pinioned the lad’s lower limbs. Helpless as a baby Frank lay there on his back, completely at the mercy of three individuals whom he had no reason to suppose would handle him gently.

While he still lay there a helpless captive, young Daniels came up, and doubling up his fist deliberately struck the helpless boy in the face. But the elder of the Daniels angrily checked him.

“Stow that,” he muttered roughly. “What’s the matter with you?”