The Dreadnought Boys on Aero Service

Over his back was strapped a black leather box, which evidently contained a camera, for under his arm he bore a folded tripod. But, despite his disreputable appearance, Sigmund Muller, free-lance photographer, as he termed himself, bore an indescribable air of being something other than he pretended to be. Ned was skilled in reading human faces, and the first time he had set eyes on Herr Muller, he had decided that under the battered exterior and slouching gait lay hidden a keen, lance-like intellect, and an unscrupulous daring. The lad was impressed with the conviction that here was a man to be reckoned with.

As the advancing aeroplane almost knocked him down, Herr Muller jumped nimbly to one side. Then he assumed what was meant to be a free-and-easy sort of manner.

"Chust for dot," he exclaimed, "I dakes me a picdgure of your aeromoplane. Yes – no?"

He began to unsling his camera, but Ned stopped him in a flash.

"Don't bother yourself," he said sharply. "You recollect that I told you the other day that it was against the rules to take pictures of any of the aeroplanes on the grounds."

"Undt I voss ordered off, too," chuckled Herr Muller, without displaying the slightest trace of irritation, "budt, you see, mein young friendt, I coom back – yah."

"Do you mind standing out of the way?" cut in Herc suddenly. "I'd hate to run you down, but if you stand in the road any longer I'll have to."

Once more Herr Muller jumped nimbly aside.

"Dot'll be all righdt," he said amicably, "go on! Go ahead! Some day you break your neck, undt den I take picdgure of you – yes, no?"

He fixed the freckled-faced boy with a glance[Pg 67][Pg 68][Pg 69] as he spoke. Herc, despite his usual equanimity, felt a shudder run through him, as he encountered the look. It seemed to penetrate like the white-hot flame of a blow-pipe.

"Whoof!" he exclaimed, as he hastened along, "that chap's about as pleasant a thing to have around as a rattlesnake. He gives me the shivers."

As the Dreadnought Boys hastened to the assembling place, Merritt and Chance, with their machines, emerged. They passed close to Herr Muller, and as they went by he overheard every word they said.

"So Ned Strong is trying to sneak into favor again, eh?" snarled Merritt, who had just been listening to Chance's account of what he had overheard at the hangar window.

"Yes, confound him. I wish we could find some way to put them both out of business. If it wasn't for them, we'd be – "

A soft touch on Chance's arm interrupted him. He faced round and was rather startled to see the shambling figure of Sigmund Muller at his elbow. The man's face bore a peculiar, searching look. Chance felt a sort of shiver run through him as he faced him. But he shook it off.

"Well, what is it?" he demanded gruffly.

"You were talking about Ned Strong and Herc Taylor and some plans they had?" said the photographer in quiet tones.

"Why, y-y-y-yes," stammered Chance, rather taken aback. But then, with a return to his former bravado: "What business have you eavesdropping, anyhow? What business is it of yours, eh?"

The other paid no attention to this outburst.

"You don't like Ned Strong or Herc Taylor?" he said in the same even tone.

"Like them," repeated Chance indignantly, "I should say not, I hate – but what do you want to know for?"

"Because I don't like them either," was the reply. "If you'll meet me at eight o'clock to-night at the old barn, the other side of the stone bridge on the Medford Road, I'll have a proposition of interest to make to you."

"What do you think I am – crazy, as you are?" burst out Chance. "Meet you to talk moonshine? What could you do?"

"Put you in the way of making a lot of money," was the rejoinder.

"Money!" Chance laughed scornfully. "Why, you're nothing but a hobo yourself. If you know where there's so much money, why don't you – Great Scott!"

Herr Muller had quietly thrust his hand into an inside pocket and withdrawn an immense roll of bills. Chance could see that they were all of big denominations. But he only got a brief look at the roll, for it was almost instantaneously replaced.

"Well," said Herr Muller, with a quiet smile tinged with some contempt, "what do you think of my credentials?"

"They're – they're all right," gasped Chance, still staring as if fascinated at the shabby figure before him.

"You and your friend will agree, then, that I am worth talking business with?"

The other thought a minute.

"My name's Chance, and I'll take one," he said, as he turned and swiftly hastened off. He had lingered a long time and faced a reprimand. But he took it philosophically, for an idea had occurred to him, a plan which might be the means of freeing himself and his chosen companion from what they deemed the drudgery and hardships of the life of a sailor.

CHAPTER VII

A RESCUE BY AEROPLANE

"Men, I have an announcement to make," said Lieutenant De Frees, when they had all assembled with their various types of machines. Ned noticed that the officer held in his hand a sheet of blue paper of official appearance. It was closely covered with typewritten matter.

"Py golly, vot now comes?" whispered Hans to Mulligan.

"Whist, can't ye, and listen to the officer!" warned Mulligan.

Like the rest, the two whisperers fell into attitudes of deep attention.

"As you all are aware," began the officer, "it is the purpose of the navy to determine the advisability of equipping every vessel in the fleet with an aeroplane suitable for bomb dropping or scout duty. Naturally one of the most essential features of such a craft would be its ability to fly both to and from the parent ship. In other words, not only must it be able to fly from the ship to the shore, a comparatively simple matter, but it must be able to land back on the deck of the ship from whence it came – a far more hazardous feat."

"Vos is idt, dot 'haz-az-abluss'?" whispered Hans.

"You all follow my meaning?" asked the officer.

A chorus of "Aye, aye, sir," came from the throats of the "Aviation Class."

"Py Chimmy Hill, I follow you all righd, budt I'm a long, long vay behindt, as der terrapin remarked to der rappit," commented Hans in a low undertone which was lost in the hearty roar of the concerted response.

"Very good," resumed the officer. "Now, then, I have here," he referred to the sheet of typewritten paper, "an announcement from the department that one week hence a landing platform will be erected on the after-deck of the Manhattan. She will anchor in the Roads, and those desiring to attempt the feat of landing on her deck may notify me at the earliest opportunity. I may add, that to the successful aviator, will accrue an award of $100, beside certain promotion for efficiency."

"Nodt for vun million billion bundtles of dollars vould I preak my neck," commented Hans to Mulligan.

"By gorry, Dutchy, I don't blame ye. 'Twould be a day's wu-urk fer a burrd to do the thrick," was the response.

"We will now take up morning practice," came the next announcement. "I think that some of you are far enough advanced to try passenger carrying across country. Strong, I assign you to take up Taylor. Merritt, you will carry Chance as your companion."

A sort of buzz of excitement ran through the squad, as the chosen ones hurried off to make ready.

"The remainder of the squad," came the next order, "will resume ordinary practice."

"Dot's all ve do, is resuming," muttered Hans. "I hope I don't resume my sneezing, py crickety."

It did not take Ned and Herc long to get ready. With a buzz and whirr, they were up and into the air before Merritt and Chance got their engines tuned up. No directions as to the course they should take had been given them, so Ned headed the flying machine off inland, where fields and hedges showed in a pretty patchwork beneath them, with a rim of blue mountains in the distance.