  Lieutenant Duvall proved as good as his word. One afternoon, not long before cold weather set in in real earnest, Rob received word that if, on the ensuing Saturday, he and his two chums would call at the old mansion they would be enabled to see for themselves the aeroplane with which the army was experimenting, Lieutenant Duvall having been selected to make the tests. If the weather proved right, the note added, there was even a possibility that a short flight might be attempted, just to show the boys something of the newest idea in army equipment. “Gee, I envy you fellows,” said Paul Perkins wistfully, when he heard of the contemplated excursion. “I’d give anything to see an aeroplane in action.” “Maybe you will get a chance,” said Rob kindly, and when the banker’s son reached home that night he ’phoned to Lieutenant Duvall to know if he could bring along a member of the Eagle Patrol who was deeply interested in aeronautics. The reply was in the affirmative, and Paul’s delight was huge when he received word that he could be one of the party. “I never saw a real aeroplane except in a picture before,” he exclaimed, “and if I can get a good look at one, I’m going to try to work out an idea I’ve got in my head.” “What’s that, Mister Edison, Junior?” teased Tubby. The boys were gathered in the wagon shed in which the wonderful, though untried, motor-scooter stood, awaiting the days when the Inlet would be frozen over for its trial trip. “Well,” said Paul, rather diffidently, “I’m afraid you fellows will laugh at me if I tell you what it is.” “No, we won’t,” Merritt assured him, tossing the core of a red-checked apple out of the open door. “We’ll be mum as oysters,” chimed in Rob. “Go ahead, Paul, unfold thy mar-velous plan.” “It’s a sort of variation on the ice motor car,” explained Paul. “It came to me last year when we were sledding down Jones’s hill outside the village. It’s just this, why couldn’t a fellow fit a sled with a pair of wings?” “Gee whiz!” groaned Tubby, pretending to roll off the empty nail keg on which he was seated, and tapping his forehead meaningly. “Another bright young mind gone—clean gone.” “Go ahead, Paul. Never mind him. He’s got a rush of fat to the head,” laughed Merritt reassuringly, for the diffident Paul had stopped and colored up at the stout youth’s ridicule. “You know,” explained Paul, “that a sled gets an awful impetus on a long glide down a hill. Now, if only one could fix wings or planes to it firmly enough, and equip it with a balancing tail, I don’t see why you couldn’t make a skimmer.” “Well, you might do it if you didn’t break your neck first,” chuckled Tubby. “Guess I’ll stick to the earth for a while.” “You’re too fat to do anything else,” chortled Rob. “But seriously, Paul, the idea sounds as if it might be worked out. Maybe the aeroplane will give you some ideas.” “I hope so,” said Paul. “I’d like to try it as soon as we get any sleighing.” “Boo-hoo! Boo-hoo!” burst out Tubby, rocking back and forth. “And he’s so young to die!” When the laugh, in which Paul could not help joining, had subsided, Rob spoke up. “Seen any more of Freeman Hunt’s father?” he asked. “Not a sign of him,” rejoined Paul. “I guess he’s given up the idea of getting an interest in my machine. What worries me a whole lot, though, is that I’ve heard nothing more from Washington.” “Cheer up!” comforted Rob. “I’ve heard my dad say that it takes a year to do in Washington what could be done anywhere else in a month.” “That’s why it takes the Washingtons so long to get within peeking view of the pennant,” chuckled Tubby, who was a close student of baseball scores. With what anxiety the weather was watched on the Saturday upon which the visit to the old mansion was to be paid may be imagined. To the boys’ delight, it dawned fair and clear, with just enough of a sharp tang in the air to make it pleasant. The boys had an early lunch and then set out for the place. “Too bad the inlet isn’t frozen, and then we could skim along in Paul’s wonderful wind-jammer,” grumbled Tubby, who was somewhat averse to walking. It so happened that their way lay past the farm of Jack Curtiss, and, as they passed it, they saw that hulking lad strolling about the place, smoking a cigarette. In the rear of the comfortable, old-fashioned house, his father could also be seen, hard at work splitting and piling wood with the hired man to help him. Curtiss stared at the lads as they swung by, but made no move to come toward them. By this time he, of course, knew how the adventure of the attack of Dugan and the Jap had turned out, and seemingly he had no wish to test the lads’ knowledge of who had instigated it. About half a mile beyond the Curtiss farm lay the estate of one Horatio Jeffords, among whose possessions was a large and ferocious bull, which had given trouble on more than one occasion to passers by. For this reason, Jeffords usually kept him tied up. As the boys swung around a turn in the road and the stone-walled way lay straight in front of them for some distance, they perceived, running toward them at top speed, two girls. “Those girls are running as if they were scared of something,” exclaimed Merritt, as they came rushing toward the boys. The words had hardly left his lips before the lads saw what had alarmed them. Galloping across the field, with head lowered and froth flecking from his mouth, was Horatio Jeffords’ savage bull. He was emitting angry roars as he dashed on toward the girls, one of whom, the boys could now see, was wearing a red sweater. “Oh, the bull! The bull! He’ll kill us!” they cried shrilly as they neared the boys. Indeed it looked as if the creature was bent on inflicting serious injury upon the wearer of the flaming article of wear, which had first attracted his attention. He leaped the low stone wall separating the pasture lot from the road as nimbly as if he had been a three-year-old colt. Then on he came, his alarming bellow ringing out shrilly and angrily. In a few seconds he was not more than a few feet behind the girls. With a wild cry one of them stumbled and fell, and the next instant the infuriated creature would have been upon her, goring her and stamping out her life. But a sudden interruption occurred. A boyish figure, with coat off and waving his hand, made a rapid leap forward, and before the amazed bull could turn to attack this new foe, his vision was suddenly blindfolded. A coat had been thrown with deadly accuracy through the air and had settled on the animal’s horns. Its folds hung down over his eyes, bewildering him and shutting off his sight. The animal shook his head and emitted angry roars, but the more he endeavored to throw the coat off, the closer it hung to his horns. “Get the girls out of the way!” shouted Rob, as coatless and flushed with his brave exertion, he stood in the center of the road. But Merritt and Tubby already had one girl upon her feet, and the other stood a short distance down the road. Both were pale and trembling at the imminence of the danger they had escaped. “Oh, thank you!” exclaimed the girl whom Rob had saved by his quick presence of mind. The bull, with a wild bellow, swung round and went staggering off in the opposite direction, trying in vain to rid himself of the bewildering coat. “At least—that is, I mean to say, I don’t know how to thank you,” she went on. “Oh, glad to have been of service,” said Rob gallantly, as the other girl came up and began adding her thanks and praise to that of her companion. “If you hadn’t worn that red sweater, you wouldn’t have attracted his attention,” quoth Tubby sagely. “I know, but they are the fashion this fall, and, then, too, we had no idea that a wild bull would be rushing around loose like that.” “I think I know who you boys are,” said the wearer of the red sweater, who now seemed quite recovered from her fright. “You are Rob Blake and Tub—Mr. Hopkins and Merritt Crawford.” “And Paul Perkins, the well-known inventor,” grinned Tubby. “I guess you have the advantage of us,” rejoined Rob. The girl laughed merrily at his embarrassment. “I am Dale Harding’s sister,” she said. “I only got home from the West two days ago, and my friend is a sister of Freeman Hunt’s.” “Wow!” Tubby exclaimed, in low voice. Then he went on: “I don’t believe Miss Hunt has been here very long.” “No, indeed. I only arrived about a week ago,” said the young lady herself. “I have been at a finishing school up the Hudson. I think it’s much nicer here, though,” she added. “Not if you have many more experiences like that,” laughed Rob. “Oh, I don’t know. If there are always some nice boys about to help us, I shouldn’t mind, should you, May?” “Not a bit,” confessed Dale Harding’s sister. “But come Helen, we must be walking on or we shall be late for that appointment.” At this juncture, Horatio Jeffords himself, red-faced and panting, came in view. He was carrying Rob’s coat. “Cal-kerlated I’d ketch yer here,” he puffed. “I’m glad you kep’ that pesky Hercules from doin’ any harm. Had him tied up and can’t figure how in Sam Hill he got erway.” He handed the coat to Rob, explaining that the bull had caught it in some brambles and shaken it off. “I hope he is safely tied up now,” said Helen Hunt. “I thought every minute the dreadful creature would toss me on his horns.” “The men hev got him up ter ther barn,” Jeffords assured her. “I’ll hitch him with er chain this time, you kin bet yer boots.” Soon after the two parties separated, the girls hastening toward Hampton and the boys walking off with Farmer Jeffords, as he was going in their direction a short distance. “What nice boys,” said Helen, as she and May Harding walked along. “Not a bit like what our brothers told us about them.” “I told you when they were pointed out to us at the post office last night that they couldn’t be as mean as Freeman and Dale tried to make out,” responded Helen. “They are awfully brave, too.” “I hope we’ll get to know them better,” went on Dale Harding’s sister. “If it depends on our brothers we won’t,” Helen Hunt assured her. In the meantime, the boys had parted from Farmer Jeffords. “Say, those girls are all right,” declared Rob enthusiastically, as they strode on. “Ho! ho! ho!” laughed Tubby. “Rob is smitten.” “You needn’t talk,” retorted Rob, with a red face. “You were bowing and scraping around like a dancing master yourself. Yes, and Merritt, too.” “I was only trying to be polite,” protested Merritt indignantly. “Pity they’re not somebody else’s sisters,” grunted Tubby mischievously, dodging a clip on the ear which Rob reached out to give him. It was not long before the dark hemlocks of the De Regny mansion came into view. From the summit of the little hill on which they stood the boys could see the broad, smooth terrace and the sparkle of the sea beyond. Hardly a breath stirred the air. “Guess we’ll have a flight, all right,” exclaimed Paul Perkins enthusiastically. “Look! They’re busy down yonder.” Sure enough they could see several small speck-like figures moving about below them, opening the big double doors of the green shed. “Race you to the bottom of the hill!” shouted Rob, and off dashed the Boy Scouts, running as if their lives depended on it. |
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