JUST BELOW THE CLOUDS

"Good luck to you, boys!" came floating up from the ground, above the buzzing of the busy little Kinkaid motor; and looking down, they could see Larry, Elephant, yes, and the old veteran also, carrying on excitedly, as they swung their hats around.

"Who're you waving your handkerchief to, Frank; does your best girl keep her eyes on the skies all the day long, looking to see you come around?" demanded Andy, humorously.

"Yes, that's my best girl, as sure as you live; and she's standing there on the porch of our house right now, waving to me—Aunt Laura, who thinks just as much of me as any mother could. But Andy, neither of us said anything when Larry told about that hobo aviator named Casper Blue; yet he answered the description the bank watchman gave of the smaller man who had a stiff arm."

"Oh, I noticed that, all right, even if I didn't look your way," returned Andy, promptly. "It sort of clinched the nail we drove through didn't it, Frank?"

"Seems like it," the other went on to remark. "And the chances are ten to one, we've got the story down fine right now, know who one of the robbers was, why they wanted to steal an aeroplane to make their get-away in, and all that. But there are a few things we don't know, that'd throw a little more light on the affair."

"As what?" queried his cousin.

"Well, for one thing, the Chief seemed to think the thieves might have had inside information, they seemed to know so much about things connected with the bank, our having an aeroplane, where we lived, what our habits were, and then about Percy's biplane in the bargain. Now, that's something serious; if there's a man in Bloomsbury who's in league with such rascals he'll be apt to help them out again later on if they get away with this job; and he ought to be found out."

"Whew! looks like we've got a big job on our hands if we hope to do all that sort of thing," commented Andy, with a whistle to indicate his feelings.

"Nobody said we even think of trying," laughed Frank, as he stopped mounting upward in spirals, and headed away toward the north.

It was a glorious view that they had now spread out beneath and around them. Neither of the Bird boys ever tired of such wonderful sights; and although by now it had become an old story, they enjoyed it as much as ever, even if their former sensation of awe had given way to one of familiarity.

They could see the entire outlines of beautiful Lake Sunrise, with its many coves, and points jutting out, the water glistening in the sunlight, as the morning breeze fanned it gently.

Why, yes, there was the little lake steamboat called the Mermaid, passing along the northern border of the lake, on the way between the town of Cranford, on the shore opposite Bloomsbury, and headed toward a small lumbering camp far up the left bank, possibly to deliver supplies, after which she would point her nose down toward the home town, which was of more importance than any other station on Lake Sunrise.

The boys did look back, dear though the scenes around home must ever be for them. It was characteristic of these lads that once they put their shoulder to the wheel, or in other words, their hand to the plow, they would not allow themselves to be discouraged by thoughts of the home ties. That accounted for much of the success that had been their portion in the past. They could for the time being forget that there was any such place as home; and in this way they avoided the weakness that such thoughts are apt to bring along in their train.

Forward their way lay, toward those forbidding wilds far to the north, where few towns could be found, and pretty much all the country was a vast wilderness, filled with picturesque forests, wild swamps, and rugged hills.

It was just the country where desperate law breakers would choose as a hiding-place, after they had committed some crime, and expected a warm pursuit. Ordinary methods would never find them, save through a mere chance; but when one can copy the eagle, and mount to dizzy heights, with a pair of powerful glasses he can see almost everything that is going on for miles and miles around, provided he has a skilled companion along to manage the aeroplane or balloon.

And that is destined to be the greatest value of these winged messengers in future years, since it has been proven that they are not so very dangerous after all in the line of dropping explosives upon battleships or fortified places.

"Somewhere up yonder, Frank, they are probably hiding, and feeling perfectly safe from pursuit," ventured Andy, who was sweeping the marine glasses around and examining the country ahead with more than common interest.

"Look how Old Thunder-top stands out today!" remarked Frank, turning for just an instant to glance upward toward the left, where the high mountain towered, its heavily wooded sides looking as gloomy as ever, and the white cliffs that made the summit inaccessible to human feet, appearing almost dazzling in the glittering light of the undimmed morning sun.

"And say, there's our old friends, the eagles that had a nest up there, and gave me such a warm time when we first reached the top." Andy cried, as he focused his glasses on a sweeping pair of huge birds that were heading their way, as if meaning to investigate, and find out what manner of rival this could be, invading their native element.

"They know too much to bother with an aeroplane by now!" declared Frank, laughing again. "Why I'm thinking those birds have hardly grown new feathers in place of the lot they lost that time they fought us so savagely."

The memory appeared to amuse his cousin also, for he could be heard laughing heartily, even above the purr of the now steadily going motor that sent the propellers whizzing around so rapidly; for there was one fore and aft, as is the case with all biplanes, the engine being behind the pilot and his companion.

"Tell me if you can remember, was that other aeroplane headed straight up the lake the last you saw it in the early morning light?" Frank asked.

"That's right, Frank; but then I couldn't say just how long they kept along that same course. When those hundreds of old crows came sailing along on the wind, cawing to beat the band, and going every-which-way, I lost sight of the biplane. After that it would have to be just guess work."

"But we've got a good pointer to start with," insisted Frank. "They wouldn't be so apt to head toward the south, east or west, because in those directions there are plenty of towns and villages, and these could report seeing a strange biplane passing over, so giving the police a clue. No, chances are ten to one they kept right on toward the north. And there's where we've got to do all our searching today. We can just comb the whole district over, and anything that looks like the stolen aeroplane is sure to catch our attention from this height, don't you think so, Andy?"

"I reckon it will, Frank; but the only thing bothers me is that things may have worked all right with the rascals, and by now they're away off, so far distant that we'll never in the wide world get in touch with them, the more the pity."

"Well, it's never been a habit of ours to own up beaten till we've done everything under the sun to win out. And Andy, we've only started as yet. The field is before us, you know, with a whole day's supply of gas to push us on, if we want to keep going. So I'm not asking any favors, and expect to do just my level best to find out where the bank robbers have gone."

"And if we hunt around a whole lot without getting tabs on the pair, why, we can drop down somewhere in a town, and get in touch with Bloomsbury Headquarters. The Chief as much as promised that he'd leave word there to put us wise to anything that had been learned by way of the telephone, from other places. And given a clue in that way, we might take a fresh spurt, you know."

"Just so, Andy," agreed the other, bending his head to watch how some part of the machinery was doing its duty; for that is always the weak link in modern aviation, nearly everything depending on the engine fulfilling its part perfectly.

Andy continued to make use of the pair of glasses that magnified objects in the far distance so wonderfully that a man could have been recognized easily a mile away, and perhaps much further, if the air were real clear.

Now and then he turned them to the right. The beautiful lake always attracted him very much like a magnet would, whenever he had a chance to look out over its glistening bosom.

And there was the little steamer, just as Frank had said; why, he could even distinguish Todd Pemberton up in the pilothouse, grasping his wheel and guiding his charge among the shoals that were charted in the northern end of the lake as dangerous, that is, for green hands at the tiller or wheel of a boat propelled by sails, steam or gasolene.

They were moving in a line that would carry them up along the shore, and consequently every minute they drew nearer the small lake steamer that was heading toward them.

Passengers could be seen on its deck, and possibly every eye was glued just at that particular moment on the aeroplane that was buzzing go steadily northward; perhaps it might have been the first time some of these people had ever seen such an interesting object; but in the region around Bloomsbury it was by now a common sight, with such enterprising young air pilots as the Bird boys and Percy Carberry in the field almost every decent day.

All at once Frank was heard to utter an exclamation.

"Turn your glasses straight ahead, and see what that can be fluttering among the bushes at Norton's Point, Andy!" he called out hastily.

When the other had swung around, and covered the region spoken of, he quickly gave the desired information.

"Somebody seems to be shaking a handkerchief or something else white," he observed. "And it don't look like just waving at the steamer either, for they do it after a system, as we would signal with wigwag flags. There, I counted seven times he did it; then comes a halt, and one, two, three times, another halt; and once more he starts in, this time three, four, five, and then stops. Now, what do you suppose the fellow means by that, and who can he be waving to, Frank?"

"You'd expect it might be some one out on the lake; can you see any small boat in sight, Andy; or any one waving back from another point?"

"Not a thing, as far as I can see," replied the boy with the marine glasses.

"Suppose you try the steamer, then," suggested Frank, meaningly.

Immediately Andy gave an exclamation of astonishment.

"I see a signal moving, Frank, and it seems to be copying the one on shore," he hastened to remark, excitedly.

"Where does it come from, the passengers that I saw pushing up against the rail, and staring at us; are any of them interested, do you think?" continued Frank, who just then could not turn his head to look, but must depend on his chum.

"Well, no," answered Andy, "it seems to come from the pilothouse, and must be Todd Pemberton, himself."