“Don’t be so impatient,” reproved Frank. “Listen to this. I got it this morning.”
He drew from his pocket a telegram and the boys all shouted with laughter as he read it aloud. It was characteristic of their old comrade.
“Have sold the tug and will be in White Plains to-morrow. Ben Stubbs, (skipper retired).”
“Good for him,” cried Billy, as the three boys made their way back from the living quarters to the aerodrome, “he’s a trump.”
“I don’t know of anyone I would rather have along in an emergency and on such an expedition as this, his experience and resourcefulness will be invaluable to us,” declared Frank.
The next morning Frank and Billy left the others busy at the aerodrome applying the waterproof compound to the Golden Eagle II’s planes and started for town behind the venerable old steed that Billy had christened “Baalbec,” because, he explained, “he was a remarkably fine ruin.” The first train from New York pulled into the station just as they were driving into the town of White Plains and a minute later the ears of both boys were saluted by a mighty hail of:
“Ahoy there, shipmates, lay alongside and throw us a line.”
The person from whom this unceremonious greeting proceeded was a short, sun-bronzed man of about fifty. He had an unusual air of confidence and ability and his mighty muscles fairly bulged under the tight-fitting, blue serge coat he wore. He carried an ancient looking carpet bag in which as he explained he had his “duds,” meaning his garments. The greetings between the three were hearty and after Frank had made a few purchases up-town and Ben had laid in a good supply of strong tobacco they started for the aerodrome.
As they drove down the street a thick-set man, with a furtive sallow face, came out of a store and as he did so saw the boys. With the agility of an eel he instantly slipped into a side street. But not so quickly that Billy’s sharp eyes had not spied him and recognized him.
“Bother that fellow,” he said with some irritation, “he gets on my nerves. I wish to goodness he’d keep away from where I am.”
Frank looked up.
“What on earth are you talking about, Billy?” he asked.
“Why that fellow we saw at the Willard, and again on the Congressional Limited, – or his double, – just sneaked down a side street,” said Billy. “I am certain he saw us and was anxious for us not to observe him.”
“Meeting him a third time like this could hardly be a coincidence,” mused Frank.
“Not much,” struck in Billy, “that fellow means some mischief.”
“I think myself that he will bear watching,” replied Frank, as they emerged from the street into the open country.
“Pretty good for a week’s work, eh?” remarked Harry with some pride as, after the joyous re-union with Ben Stubbs, they all stood regarding the air-skimmer which was growing like a living thing under their hands.
They all agreed enthusiastically and Frank even suggested that it might be possible, at the rate the work was progressing, to make the start in less time than he had at first thought feasible.
“Oh, by the way,” said Harry suddenly, “rather a funny thing happened while you were gone, Frank!”
“Yes?” said the elder brother, “what was it?”
“Oh, nothing very exciting,” replied Harry, “nothing more than a visit we had from a tramp.”
“From a tramp?” asked Frank wonderingly.
“Yes, he came here to look for a job,” he said.
“And you told him – ?”
“That we hadn’t any work, of course, and then, apparently, he went away. But Schultz, when he went over to the house for some tools he’d left there, found that instead of going very far the fellow was up in the wood back there and watching the place with a pair of field-glasses.”
“Whew!” whistled Frank with a long face, “a tramp with field-glasses? – that’s a novelty.”
“I sent Schultz up to tell the man that he was trespassing on private property,” went on Harry, “but as soon as he saw the old fellow coming the tramp made off. He, however, dropped this bit of paper.”
Harry handed his brother a crumpled sheet marked with faint lines. Frank scrutinized the paper carefully and a frown spread on his face.
“This bit of paper, as you call it, Harry,” he said, “is nothing more nor less than a very creditable sketch map of the location of this aerodrome.”
“By jove, so it is,” exclaimed Harry, “how stupid of me not to have realized that. What does it all mean do you suppose?”
“It means,” replied Frank, “that we will not leave the aerodrome unguarded for a minute day or night till we are ready to make our start for Florida.”
CHAPTER IV
A PLOT DISCOVERED
In accordance with Frank’s resolution the three young members of the party and Ben Stubbs divided the night into four watches which were religiously kept, but rather to Frank’s surprise nothing occurred to excite suspicion. The next morning Le Blanc, who had driven into town, returned shortly before noon with a letter from the Secretary of War which contained information of much interest to every member of the projected expedition.
“I have arranged with the Department,” it read in part, “to have the torpedo destroyer Tarantula detailed to duty along the Florida coast and you can keep in touch with her by wireless. For this purpose, besides the apparatus attached to your air-ship, I have ordered a complete field outfit to be forwarded to you, – of the kind with which several western posts have been experimenting of late and which has proved entirely satisfactory.
“The instrumental part of the outfit – i. e., the keys, detector, condenser, tuning-coil, etc., are permanently fastened into or carried in a steel-bound trunk, but little bigger than an ordinary steamer trunk, and weighing about one hundred and fifty pounds. Two storage batteries, both sufficient for ten hours of continuous sending, accompany the outfit, and come in wooden cases which form supports for the trunk when the outfit is in use.
“A mast of ten six-foot sections, which can be jointed together and set up in a few minutes, forms your aerial pole and each section is coppered so as to provide a continuous conductor. In another box are packed the aerial wires, extra rope, wire-pegs, etc., as well as a waterproof tent to protect the outfit from the weather. Of course a charging station is a necessity and another case contains a small, but powerful gasolene motor and generator. Another attachment for use with the appliance is a combination Malay and box kite carrying a cord of phosphor bronze, wire-woven about a hemp center. There are eight hundred feet of this wire wound on a reel. If for any reason the work of setting up and attaching the pole and its aerials is considered to be too lengthy an occupation it is a simple matter to send up the kite, its wire rope acting as an aerial in itself.”
The boys grew enthusiastic over this description. The outfits seemed from the account to possess the merits of portability and efficiency and in the country into which they were going portability was a strong feature in itself. It was this very question that had caused Frank, when designing the new Golden Eagle, to so construct her that she could be taken apart and the various sections boxed in a very small capacity each box weighing not more than fifty pounds with the exception of that containing the engine which weighed one hundred and fifty without the base.
That afternoon the boys worked like Trojans on the Golden Eagle II with the result that shortly before sundown they had progressed to a point where the air-ship was ready for the attachment of the engine. They were all surprised, and somewhat startled, when their solitude was invaded, just as they were thinking of knocking off work for the day, by a loud rap at the doors of the aerodrome. Frank opened the small flap cut in the big door and stepped out to see who the intruder might be.
He