The Boy Aviators' Flight for a Fortune

Before anybody on the Sea Eagle could utter a word the fellow gave a deft stroke of his paddle and his canoe shot off into the trackless paths of the swamps.

“Well, what under the sun!” burst out Frank, while Pudge weakly ejaculated:

“Centipedes and spongecakes!”

“It’s all clear enough,” exclaimed Ben bitterly. “Those ruffians got ahead of us. That ’Cadian took them to the scene of the wreck and they’ve rifled it.”

“That was undoubtedly a black pearl he held up,” said Dr. Perkins in a faint voice. “I suppose they gave him that for guiding them here.”

The sudden shriek of a high-crested kingfisher made them look up suddenly. The bird was darting from tree to tree on an island at a little distance. Suddenly something that lay at the foot of a tree caught Ben’s sharp eyes.

“What’s that? That glittering thing yonder?” he exclaimed, pointing.

“Easy enough to see,” said Dr. Perkins, starting up the Sea Eagle for the little island.

“It’s a diving helmet!” cried Frank as they drew closer to the object, “just look, the rascals must have left it there after they got the treasure out of the sunken wreck. I guess they thought that as they were so rich they need not bother with it.”

They landed on the island as disconsolate and downcast a band of treasure hunters as ever set foot on the site of a treasure trove. Abundant evidences of a camp were all about them. The ashes of a fire, and scraps of food and paper. One of these caught Frank’s attention. It was a fragment of newspaper, and what had challenged Frank’s notice was that a band of red ink had been drawn around some printing on it. Frank read the marked portion with a somewhat vague curiosity. For the moment he did not realize what an important clew he had stumbled upon. Then it rushed upon him with full force.

Ben and the others were on the shore of the island pointing down into the muddy waters of the bayou.

The earth was trampled in the vicinity, and showed plainly that the miscreants who had stolen the treasure had carried on their operations from that point of the bank.

“Down thar somewhar’ lies the wreck of the Belle of New Orleans,” said Ben, shaking his head dolefully, and pointing into the black current; “but it ain’t going to do us no good, mates. It ain’t going to do us no good; them sea skunks has got ahead of us for fair.”

It was at this point that Frank’s shout interrupted them.

“What is it?” cried Dr. Perkins.

“This paper. Come here. I think it’s a clew to where they have gone.”

They crowded about him while Frank read out from the marked paper.

“‘The new South American Commerce Company’s steamer Buenos Aires sails to-morrow for the latter port. She is a fast, capable craft and will make a direct run to the Argentine. The inauguration of this service is a distinct addition to the commercial importance of New Orleans and establishes new trade relations with South America.’”

“Very pretty,” said Ben; “but what does it prove?”

“Yes, I don’t see much of a clew in that,” put in Harry.

But Frank raised his hand to command silence.

“Listen a minute,” he said. “Of course, I may be altogether wrong, but it seems to me that the reason this paragraph is marked is because those fellows meant to sail on this very boat.”

Ben brought his hand down on his knee with a resounding whack.

“By hookey, lad!” he roared; “that’s reason. That’s solid sense and reason.”

“What is the date of that paper?” asked Dr. Perkins.

“Luckily the paragraph was torn off from the top of the page,” said Frank, “and the date of the issue is legible. It is dated yesterday.”

“Then the Buenos Aires sailed this morning?”

“Yes; that’s the way it looks.”

“And while we are wasting time here she is heading down the river for the open sea,” groaned Harry.

“Can’t we wireless to New Orleans and find out?” asked Pudge.

“That’s a mighty good idea, Pudge,” said his father, “but the set we have on the Sea Eagle wouldn’t carry as far as that.”

“Then let’s get on board again and fly back as quickly as possible. We are only wasting time here,” said Frank.

His suggestion was quickly acted upon, and the voyagers reëmbarked. They were a very different party from the pleasantly excited expedition that had set out that morning so full of hope and enterprise. Frank alone kept up his spirits. He sat constantly at the wireless as they winged their way back to New Orleans, incessantly trying to get into communication.

At last he caught the operator of the Harbor Master’s office. Instantly he flashed his query:

“Did Buenos Aires sail this a. m.?”

“Yes. Ship sailed early to-day.”

“Where will she be now?”

“About off Fort Jackson, near the mouth of the river,” came the reply. “She has wireless, but it is out of order, so that I can’t tell you exactly where she is right now.”

“Thanks!” flashed Frank and disconnected.

He quickly communicated his tidings, and immediately a hasty, excited consultation followed. The result of it was that Dr. Perkins decided to ground the Sea Eagle in Algiers. This done, Ben would swear out a warrant before the most available justice, and then, if they could find a deputy nervy enough to make the trip, he was to be taken on board the Sea Eagle and the Buenos Aires overtaken before she got beyond the jurisdiction of the State.

But after landing in Algiers these plans were changed. It was decided instead to swear out a federal warrant, as there was grave danger of the ship getting out of the State’s power before they could overtake her. On the extraordinary circumstances being related to him, the U. S. Commissioner at New Orleans readily granted the warrant for the arrest of all three of the rascals. It now remained only to find a Deputy U. S. Marshal courageous enough to make the trip through the air.

The only one available seemed a bit doubtful.

“A trip in an aëroplane!” he said. “I’ve never taken such a journey and I’m scared of the blessed things. You see, I’ve got a wife and family, and – ”

“Don’t be afraid. There’s really no danger, and we’ll be over water most of the way,” urged Dr. Perkins.

The deputy seemed to come to a sudden conclusion. His eyes snapped and his lips tightened.

“All right, I’ll go with you!” he suddenly cried. “Wait till I ’phone the missus and I’m your man. Those rascals played you a mean trick, and I’d like to see you win out.”

The hearts of the adventurers gave a bound of hope. There was a chance of seeing justice come into its own, after all.

The Buenos Aires, a fine ship of five thousand or more tons, dropped rapidly down the river. She had few cabin passengers, and of these only three were on deck. The remainder were in their cabins putting their belongings to rights.

These three men were the elder Daniels, his loutish son and Duval. But they all wore smart new clothes, and Duval had shaved off his mustache. As for the two Daniels, it is an example of what clothes can do to say that they looked more like prosperous, rather countryfied commission dealers than rugged fishermen from Maine.

“Let’s have a look at them pearls again,” Daniels was saying, after he had given a cautious glance about him to make sure they were not observed.

Duval reached into his pocket and drew out a canvas bag. From it he poured out a number of black, lustrous objects, catching them in a cupped hand.

“Twenty of the beauties,” he exclaimed; “twenty black pearls – the rarest gems that come out of the ocean.”

“What are they worth again?” asked the elder Daniels, licking his lips anticipatively.

“Thirty thousand dollars at the least.”

“Jiminy! Hold me, some one!” sputtered Zeb.

“And that, counting the gold dust in the cabin, makes a fortune of close upon seventy-five thousand dollars we got out of that old hulk, don’t it?”

“That’s right,” answered Duval; “you fellows did a good day’s work for yourselves when you knocked me on the head in that hut.”

“Waal, I should say so. Let’s go below and look at that gold again. I kin hardly keep my fingers frum touching it. We’re rich, boys, we’re rich!”

The three worthies disappeared below after Duval had carefully replaced the black pearls in their bag. It was some hours later when they came up again and the ship was passing the Port Ead’s light.

“We’re safe now,” exclaimed Duval in a low tone; “even if they do discover the trick we’ve put up on em, they could never catch us now. In another two hours we’ll be out on the gulf and by to-morrow we’ll be out of reach of any one in Yankeeland.”

“Hulloo, what’s up astern?” asked Zeb suddenly. “What are they all pointing at?”

“Pointing at? What do you mean?” demanded Duval, suspicious as are most guilty consciences of anything unusual.

“Something in the sky. Hark! They are shouting!”

“Something in the sky!”

Duval’s face went white. His knees shook. By a flash of guilty intuition he had guessed what that something was, even if the next minute a shout had not split the air.

“An aëroplane! It’s an aëroplane!”

Duval’s knees quivered under him. He trembled like a man with the palsy. Old Daniels came up to him hastily.

“Duval, they’ve sighted one of them airyoplanes – you don’t think – ”

“No, I don’t think. I know,” choked out Duval, “they are after us. Hark!”

From the distance came the sound of shots high up in the air. In reply to the signal – for such it was – the Buenos Aires’ whistle emitted three long, mournful toots. Her engines began to slow down. As Duval felt the steamer’s speed check he dashed below to his cabin. As for Daniels, he stood rooted to the spot, his lips moving, but no speech coming from them. Zeb was nowhere to be seen.

Up on the Buenos Aires’ lofty flying bridge her officers, in the meantime, had been almost equally excited. They had seen the aëroplane some time before; but as nowadays such craft are a fairly common sight, they had not paid overmuch attention to it. It was not till the unusual size of the craft was revealed that they scrutinized it closely.

Then, as the big winged man-bird swung above the steamer’s masts, had come the quick six pistol shots. An imperative signal, rightly interpreted “Stop!”

The whistle had replied and the vessel’s way been checked as the jangling signals sounded in the engine-room, and “Slow down” flashed up on the telegraph.

“What do you want?” hailed the captain through a megaphone, as the Sea Eagle– for of course our readers have guessed the identity of the craft of the air – swung above him.

“We want to board you with a United States warrant!” came the startling reply from midair.

“A warrant! For some of my passengers?”

“Yes; for three men whom we have reason to believe booked passage as Daniel Maine and son and another one who calls himself Francis Le Blanc.”

“I have three such men on board and recognize the authority of the United States. How will you board me?”

“We’ll come alongside.”

The captain looked as if he didn’t understand how this was going to be done, but gave orders to stop the ship, drop anchor and lower the gangway. This was done, and the Sea Eagle dropped to the water alongside with perfect precision. In the meantime, the wildest excitement reigned on board. Rumors flew thick and fast as to the errand of the men from the air.

Lest it should be wondered how Dr. Perkins and his companions knew the names under which the three rascals had sailed, we had better clear this matter up. Before embarking in the Sea Eagle in pursuit of the Buenos Aires, a passenger list had been obtained from the offices of the steamship company. It will be recalled that Francis Le Blanc was the alias, or false name, which Duval had used when in the employ of Mr. Sterrett on the yacht Wanderer. This gave them a clew, and when they came across the names Daniel Maine and son, booked for an adjoining cabin, there remained small doubt that those names concealed the two Daniels.

The Sea Eagle was soon made fast, and Marshal Howell, followed by Dr. Perkins and the two Boy Aviators, sprang up the gangway. The others they had been compelled to leave behind, as, with the three prisoners to carry back, the Sea Eagle would have been overcrowded.

As they reached the top of the gangway Captain Stow and his officers advanced to meet them.

“To what am I indebted for the honor of this visit?” asked the seaman.

The marshal showed his authority and his warrant.

“We don’t wish to detain you longer than necessary, captain,” he said, “so will you have us shown to their cabins?”

The captain himself led the way below, and conducted them down a corridor to the stern of the ship. As they reached the end of the passage a door was thrust suddenly open and a bullet whizzed past Frank’s head. At the same instant Zeb’s figure appeared in the doorway.

But before he could fire another shot the marshal had wrested the pistol from him and burst into the cabin. Frank was close behind him. At a port hole was Duval; he had something in his hand and was just about to hurl it out of the port hole, when Frank, in one bound, was at his side and had his arm captive. With a snarl like a wounded wild beast Duval turned on him, whipping out a knife as he did so. But before any harm could be done, Dr. Perkins seized and disarmed him.

It was speedily found that the bag which Frank had saved was the one containing the black pearls which Duval, in his extremity, had determined to throw away rather than let any one else gain their possession. The Marshal slipped the handcuffs on Zeb and Duval, who submitted sullenly to arrest. It was not till then that their thoughts turned to the elder Daniels. He was not in his cabin, and search of the ship failed to reveal him. The mystery was soon to be explained, however.

A boat with a colored oarsman had been lying alongside the steamer waiting to take off the pilot. In the confusion old Daniels had opened the bag of gold dust, selected a packet, and, dropping into the boat, told the negro to row him ashore to secure help for the officers. The negro naturally supposed that he was acting under proper instructions, and put the old fisherman ashore. He was never heard of again.

Zeb and Duval sullenly refused to utter a word, but ultimately, after their return to New Orleans, Frank had an interview with Duval in his prison cell, in which he made a clean breast of everything. From Bayhaven they had hastened south by fast trains, stopping on the way to buy diving dress. The Acadian whom the boys had encountered in the swamps had guided them to the scene of the wreck, receiving one black pearl as his reward.

Of the voyage back from the Buenos Aires with the two prisoners not much can be said. It was made at a good rate of speed, and both Duval and Zeb were docile. Indeed, there was no use in their being otherwise. On account of his youth and the pleadings of Dr. Perkins and the boys, Zeb got a light sentence in a reformatory institution, and it is hoped that he will prove a far better character when he gets out. Duval was more severely dealt with, but even he got off more lightly than he deserved, thanks to the clemency of the people he had wronged.

And so ends the story of the Boy Aviators’ Flight for a Fortune in the most wonderful aëroplane constructed up to date. But no doubt, in the rapid march of events, even the Sea Eagle will soon be surpassed. Already, while this book goes to press, plans are being made by no less than four separate aviators to dare the terrors of a transatlantic passage. Whether they will succeed or not is in the lap of the future, but the author is certain that some day flights across “The Pond” at seventy or eighty miles an hour will be so common as to attract but small attention.

Some of my readers doubtless wish to know how Ben disposed of his fortune. Well, part of it he wisely invested in real estate, and the rest he is thinking of putting into the company Dr. Perkins has formed to manufacture Sea Eagles. Mr. Sterrett is a member of the company, and so are the Boy Aviators. Naturally Ben’s keen wish to have them share some of his good fortune was refused, for, as we know, the Boy Aviators’ adventures in the past had netted them a good share of this world’s goods. Billy Barnes is publicity agent at a good salary for the Sea Eagle Company, Ltd., and the work just suits his tastes. As for Pudge, he is as hard a worker as anybody at the plant on Brig Island, learning the business “from the bottom up.”

And so, wishing them well in their future undertakings, we will here take leave for the present of our friends, until we hear of them again in the next volume, entitled “The Boy Aviators with the Air Raiders.”

THE END