THE PILOT OF THE MERMAID

"So, it's Todd Pemberton, is it?" remarked Frank, "I think it'll pay us to slow down a little, and look into this white rag-waving business."

"Goodness gracious! you can't be thinking that Todd is in touch with the bank robbers, can you, Frank?" Andy exclaimed, astounded, apparently, at the very thought of such a thing.

"Oh! I'm not up to that point of saying anything—yet. But all the same it's what I call interesting, you know," the other replied; and from this Andy could easily guess that while Frank might have notions about the matter, he did not care to commit himself so early in the game.

"Yes, that's so," Andy replied, still having his eyes glued to the binoculars.

"What's doing now?" continued Frank.

"Nothing that I c'n see," replied the other.

"No more white handkerchiefs waving around the point, eh, Andy?"

"Not a blessed thing; and Todd's quit too. Guess they've come to some sort of an understanding. Wish I knew what seven, three, five meant; something pretty interesting, I'll be bound." Andy went on to mutter, half to himself.

"Well, we can only guess, and that's the extent of it," Frank was saying, in a rather serious tone, as though he believed there might be more in connection with the little affair than a mere exchange of civilities.

"How about Todd Pemberton, Frank?" asked the boy with the glasses.

"Well, you know him as well as I do, perhaps better," returned his cousin.

"I mean, wasn't there once something against him? I know, Frank, that my guardian signed a paper about getting Todd his position with the steamboat company this last spring; they always get him to sign everything going, he's so good-natured and what you call an Easy Mark."

"Yes, they came to my father too, and he put his name down, I remember. As near as I can say, it was a petition to ask the company to give Todd the position of pilot; and stated the belief of all those who signed that he would make good. He used to be a pilot on Lake Sunrise, and before that on one of the Great Lakes."

"But, Frank, why the petition, if he was able to fill the place you'd think all he had to do was to make application, and then jump in?"

"Well, it seemed to be pretty generally known about Bloomsbury that Todd had not always been as straight as he is today; and lots of people believed he would never hold his place a week; but he's had it all summer now, and seems to be giving satisfaction, all right," Frank went on to say.

"But there was a past, you mean; Todd had gone the pace, and used to drink and gamble, I suppose. Perhaps, now, he even used to herd with a tough set. How about that, Frank?"

"It's so all right. Todd got down pretty low, and was even a hobo, I heard, before he took a brace, and came back to Bloomsbury to make a man of himself again."

"Gee! I'm real sorry to hear that," Andy muttered.

"What? That he reformed?" demanded the cousin, in pretended surprise.

"Shucks! no; but about his having been a tramp; because, don't you see, Frank, it makes things look black for Todd. Remember, don't you, about what the Chief said when he spoke of the yeggs knowing so much about things, that he thought they must have had inside information; and that somebody familiar with Bloomsbury ways helped them figure it all out. Looks bad for Todd, that's what, Frank."

To hear Andy talk you would think that the party in question must have been a personal friend, at least, when, in truth, he only knew Todd Pemberton to speak to, as he did a thousand other people in and around the home town.

"By that you mean you're afraid he's fallen in with some old companions in crime and been tempted, or forced to join them in this raid on the bank?" was the way Frank put the matter direct.

"You've covered what I do believe, as sure as my name's Andy Bird."

"Well, let me say that I think the same way you do," Frank went on to remark.

"Good!" cried Andy, in a delighted tone. "Sometimes we agree, and again we have different minds; but in this case it looks like we might be on the same raft."

"Take another good squint at the point, Andy, and see if you can pick up that man again, the fellow who was doing all that tall Wigwagging."

"I'm looking, Frank."

"What d'ye see there now?" the other continued.

"Nothing—that is, there are stones, and moss, and trees, and perhaps birds flying around this way and that; but never the first sign of a human being can I discover anywhere, Frank."

"Still, we know there's one man there at least, perhaps a pair of them hiding somewhere around that desolate place. Why, Norton's Point is, I guess, about the meanest and loneliest place of all the Disston Swamp lumber company. Nobody hardly ever goes there except to shoot snipe and woodcock in the fall, and yet we happen to know there's one person hiding out there, and that he knows Todd Pemberton, for they've been exchanging signals through the wigwag code."

"Looks suspicious, Frank, don't you think?"

"Looks like it might pay to investigate a little closer, Andy."

They were by this time passing over the identical strip of country where Andy had watched the signal waving. By looking almost directly down, he could see between the tall trees as only an aviator ever has a chance of doing.

"You know what I'm hoping to discover, Frank?" he remarked as he continued to scan every part that was at all exposed by openings among the trees.

"Percy's lost biplane, I take it," came the prompt reply.

"Yes, because they couldn't very well have landed without a certain amount of open space. We know how hard it is to drop into a hole, and worse still to climb up out of one. Didn't we have the toughest of times down there in that South American forest finding open spots where we could land with some chance of ever getting out again, without cutting trees down that were as big around as a young house?"

"But I don't hear you shouting out that you've made any sort of discovery, up to now, Andy?"

"Well, no, for a fact I haven't. But Frank, I wish you could take the glass and let me hold the wheel for a minute."

"You can tell me just as well, I think," replied the other.

"It's about the sandy beach in front of the point," remarked Andy.

"What ails it then?" Frank inquired, seeing his cousin hesitate.

"Why," Andy went on to say, "you know how powerful this glass is, and how it shows up the smallest of things when the sun is just right? It's doing that now. I can look down on the sand spit at the point; and for a lonely spot where hardly a man ever comes from November to June, it looks pretty well trampled up to me."

"Trampled by men or animals?" the pilot inquired.

"I think by two-legged animals," answered the one who held the powerful lenses to his young eyes. "And it struck me that perhaps the biplane came down right there early this morning. It was headed this way when I saw it, and not so very high up; though that flock of crazy crows knocked me out of watching it for some times."

"Do you mean it fell there; that they had an accident of some kind, Andy?"

"Might be that; and then, again, perhaps they dropped down on purpose; p'raps they mean to have another warm session around Bloomsbury before skipping out of this section for good. With the aeroplane to make a quick get-away, they might think of some rich haul they want to gather in. Am I away off in my guess, Frank, or do you kind of lean the same way?"

"I think you are getting pretty close to the truth, Andy, and that's a fact," replied the other. "But it would clinch it if you could only glimpse the biplane hidden away somewhere down there under the brush or the trees."

"That's what I've been hoping for," returned Andy, a little fretfully, "but so far without meeting any success that you could notice. But what ought we to do about it, Frank?"

"Go on, and take a wide sweep around," came the steady reply. "Perhaps we might run across another leading clue, and then this one would look foolish. We'd be sorry then, that we thought so bad of Todd. Perhaps, after all, he was only making signals to one of the men connected with the logging camp, up on the Point for something or other."

He allowed the motor to work at the reduced speed that it had been carrying on ever since quitting the home field, where the workshop and the hangar stood. Andy still continued to use the glasses, as though he had not quite given up all hope of making some sort of discovery.

Once, however, they had left the northern end of the lovely lake behind them for good, and only the forest lay below, Frank quickened matters somewhat. Truth to tell, he hardly knew what to think, and whether what they had witnessed could really have any bearing on the solution of the puzzle or not.

Certainly if the hunt was only kept up in automobiles, that required fairly decent roads to allow of their getting along, there was not much chance of the authorities ever discovering the concealed hobo thieves; for they could not get within a mile of the shore up there at Norton's Point by such methods. The only way it could be reached was by boat; or possibly through the means of an aeroplane, such as the Bird boys were now using. Few places but could be spied upon, when one had the means for passing over the most inaccessible thickets and rocky hills.

After a time they had gone many miles. Occasionally a small hamlet was seen below; and then would come once more the woods that extended over such a large space of territory in this part of the country. This was generally because of the swampy nature of the ground, which prevented farming operations being carried on, while the difficulty of getting the logs out of the bogs had deterred lumbering thus far.

Andy had done his part of the work faithfully. He had scoured the territory over which they passed, and never did a break occur, however small, but he clapped his eyes upon it, and examined the open space thoroughly.

"There's Rockford ahead, and we've passed over the whole stretch of swamp and forest. Suppose, now, we dropped down on the commons, and get Bloomsbury on the long distance phone; perhaps they might have some news they could give us," and as Andy at once agreed to the proposal, for he was thirsty anyhow, and wanted a drink of soda water the worst kind, Frank began to descend gracefully.

They had about half the population of the place gaping at them as they finally landed on the big green. Frank asked his cousin to stay by the machine while he sought police headquarters, and asked to get in touch with the home town.

He had no sooner made the connection, and heard some one answer him after he told who he was, when there was sent along the wire some information that rather gave Frank a shock, because of its nature, and the fact that it seemed to fully dispose of the theory he and his cousin had already formed.