A TRAP.

"Well, sink me!" muttered Dick Ferral, staring at the newspaper paragraph. "Have they really got so they can navigate the air like they do the water? I've heard of such things, but I didn't know they'd made a success of them."

Carl threw back his shoulders and puffed out his chest.

"Vell, Modor Matt und me ve haf sailed der sky mit der air ship," said he. "Matt sailed in der Hawk, und I sailed in der Eagle. Ditn't you hear about dot? Vy, it vas in der bapers."

"I haven't looked at a paper for a week," returned Ferral curiously. "How did you and Matt happen to go up in an air ship?"

"It vas like dis, Tick. Matt und me vas oudt peyond Sout' Chicago taking some spins in a pubble, ven along comes a runavay air ship, und——"

"A runaway air ship?" interrupted Ferral incredulously. "Tell that to the marines, Carl!"

"Dot's righdt," insisted Carl. "Der air ship vas running avay mit two fellers vat don'd know how to use him, see? Matt und me shtopped it mit a rope vat vas tragging on der groundt, und der rope proke avay und der air ship vent on, aber vone oof der fellers in der car tropped somet'ing oudt oof his bocket, vich Matt und I picked oop. Vell, dot roll oof bapers pelonged mit anoder feller vat hat hat dem shtolen, und ve hat a mighdy oxciding time gedding dem pack. Matt vas carried off in der air ship to a svamp in Intiana, und I followed him dere in der Eagle, und Matt turned der tables on der fellers vat run avay mit him, und come pack mit two oof der roppers."[A]

"Well, keelhaul me!" exclaimed Ferral. "I'd give my eyeteeth to be able to take a sail in an air ship. How much do they want for this one?"

His hand wandered to his pocket, where he had replaced the roll of money.

"Dey vant so mooch as dey can ged," said Carl.

"Why is the Chief of Police of South Chicago selling it?"

"Prady, der feller vat owned it, vas a t'ief. Some oof vat he shtole vas prought pack by Matt, und der air ship iss going to be soldt to pay a leedle to some oof der odders vat don'd ged der goots pack."

"What's Matt doing?"

"He shows der air ship off to fellers vat come to see how it vorks. He is heluping der bolice, und dey gif him den tollars a day for flying aroundt mit it."

"Strike me lucky!" exclaimed the impulsive Ferral, slapping Carl on the shoulder, "do you think two thousand plunks would buy the craft, Carl?"

"Nix, Verrai, I don'd. Oof two t'ousandt vouldt puy her, den Matt vould haf owned her pefore now. He vants der Hawk vorse as anypody you efer see."

"Couldn't we rake up enough between us to buy her?" cried Ferral. "If Matt knows about her, and if she'll sail successfully, I wouldn't like anything better than to go from Chicago to Quebec by the air-ship route. What a high old jinks that would be!"

"Pully!" exclaimed Carl, as highly elated over the prospect as was Ferral. "King und Verral, oof der Air-ship Limidet Line! Ach, vat a habbiness oof it couldt come oudt like dot."

"King, Ferral & Pretzel," said Ferral. "You'll be in on the deal, Carl."

"Fife tollars' vort," returned Carl. "Dot's all der money vat I got."

"We'll let you in on the deal just to have you along. Matt will be captain, I'll be mate, and you'll be the crew."

"Py shinks," chuckled Carl, "I vould make a fine crew."

"Does the Hawk handle easily?"

"So easy as I can't dell! You pull a t'ing und she goes oop, den you pull anoder t'ing und she comes down, und you viggle her aroundt mit some more t'ing—I don'd know vat. Aber Matt can vork her so shlick as nodding. Say, Verral, Matt can make dot air ship turn some handt-shprings in der cloudts, und——"

"Avast there, Carl! I'll bet Matt can handle the craft, all right, even if he can't make her do any hand-springs. Do you suppose she'll be sold before we get out to South Chicago?"

"Vell, I hope nod. Meppy ve go righdt avay, hey?"

"Sure! The quicker we go, the more chance we will have to get the Hawk. If we——" The boys had been walking slowly back to the boarding house, and Ferral suddenly broke off his words and came to a halt. "Oh, hang it," he went on, "I'm due for a sail on the lake at one o'clock. Merrick, a nice chap I met on the train coming from Denver, invited me to go with him, and I said I'd meet him across the Lake Street viaduct right after dinner. I hate to cut away from Merrick like that."

"Vy nod ged him to sail us as near Sout' Chicago as he can go?" suggested Carl. "Den meppy ve ged off der poat und dake der shdreed car?"

"Right-o!" cried Ferral. "That's what we'll do. How long before you can be ready, Carl?"

"Schust so kevick as I can go up py my room und ged dot fife tollars oudt oof der pureau trawer."

"That's the ticket! But you don't need any money, old ship, while you're with me. I've got plenty for the two of us."

"Anyvay, Tick, I got to vash oop a leedle, und prush my clothes——"

"So've I. Those swabs handled me a bit rough, although they didn't leave many marks on me."

Ferral was completely carried away with the idea of buying the air ship, and he could talk of nothing else while he and Carl were smoothing the kinks out of their personal appearance, and riding downtown on the car.

It was nearly one o'clock and they did not have any time to stop at a restaurant for dinner. But neither of the lads thought of anything to eat—and that was what Carl had a habit of thinking of at the right time, and between times, so it will be understood how the prospect of securing the air ship dazzled him.

A little sailing craft was bumping against the wharf at the lake end of the viaduct. Although a small boat, yet she had a cuddy forward, a cockpit aft, and was as spick and span as snow-white canvas, clean decks, and polished brasswork could make her.

A young fellow, rather loudly dressed, was leaning against one of the posts to which the sailboat was moored. He was smoking a cigarette, and, at sight of Ferral, ran up to him with outstretched hand.

"Ahoy, my gay sailorman!" he cried. "I had a kind of hunch that you'd go back on me, and wouldn't show up."

"Whenever I say I'll do a thing," replied Ferral, catching the other's hand heartily, "I lay my course in that direction. But I'm in a rush to get to South Chicago. Do you suppose you can take us somewhere near there?"

"Take you anywhere, old chap," returned the other.

Ferral presented Carl. The Dutch lad was not very much taken with Ferral's friend. There was something about him that rubbed Carl's fur the wrong way. However, Carl did not pay much attention to this vague distrust. He was thinking of the Hawk, and hoping that he and Ferral would reach South Chicago in time to buy the air ship before she was sold to anybody else.

Carl, more than anyone else, knew how Motor Matt was longing to own the Hawk, and how badly disappointed he was to think he had not the money to buy her. Dick Ferral had dropped into the affair at just the right time.

The name of the sailboat was the Christina, and her skipper was a heavy-jawed Norwegian by the name of Erickson. There was something about Captain Erickson that Carl did not like, and the Swede who helped the skipper sail the Christina did not appear to any better advantage. Yet the idea of buying the air ship had put Carl's nerves in a twitter, and he gave little heed to his vague suspicions.

Merrick, Ferral and Carl got aboard the Christina, the Swede cast off the bow moorings, the skipper hauled up the mainsail and jib, and then the Swede threw on the stern rope and jumped aboard. There was a fine breeze, and the little boat tripped out through the harbor in the direction of the government pier.

Ferral and Carl went forward and seated themselves on the top of the cabin. Merrick lingered in the cockpit to talk with Erickson, who had the wheel. The Swede was farther forward, setting another of the jibs.

"How long you knowed dot Merrick feller, Tick?" queried Carl.

"About a day and a half. Why?"

"His looks don'd make some hits mit me; und I don'd like der Norvegian or der Svede, neider."

Ferral laughed.

"Why, Carl," said he, "you can't smoke a fellow's roll on such a short acquaintance."

"I ged some hunches ven I see vat I don'd like, und I got all kindts oof hunches, righdt now, dot somet'ing is crooked. Meppy dot Merrick feller shmokes your roll—der vone vat you got in your bocket."

"Belay, Carl! You'll like Merrick after you know him a little better. I'll admit he's not exactly my style, but he's no beachcomber. If anything happened, why, there's two of us to three of them, and we could put up a pretty stiff set-to. But South Chicago and the Hawk loom pretty large in my glass, just now, and I haven't got time to think of much of anything else."

Just at that moment a doubled-up form pushed out of the cuddy into the cockpit. As the form straightened, and turned around so as to face forward, Carl went off the cabin at a jump and gave a yell.

"Prady!" he gasped; "Prady, or I vas a geezer!"