bully looked disconsolate.
“Have to try it again, I guess,” he suggested.
“Not much!” declared Jerry decisively.
“Wha – what?” gasped Noddy.
“No more tries for us,” went on the tall lad. “You’ve stuck too fast for us to pull you out, Noddy. What you need is some pulleys and a derrick. We can’t risk breaking our car, and ripping off the tires. You’ll have to stay there until you can get some one else to pull you out.”
Jerry detached the broken rope from his car, and got in again.
“You – you aren’t going away and leave me; are you?” faltered Noddy.
“You guessed it,” declared Bob.
“Oh, please pull me out!” pleaded the bully.
“We can’t,” spoke Jerry, not unkindly. “It’s impossible, Noddy. That mud has too firm a hold on your wheels. The best we can do is to stop at the nearest garage and tell them about you.”
The bully begged and pleaded by turns, and offered the boys a large sum of money; but though our heroes would have helped him, in spite of his former meanness, it was out of the question. They could not afford to damage their own car, and risk getting hurt by a breaking rope.
“Sorry to leave you, but we must,” called Jerry, as he sent the auto slowly ahead. They turned toward Cresville, leaving Noddy standing on the brink of the muck-hole, gazing disconsolately at his stalled auto, while the mud and water dripped from him at several points, and formed little puddles at his feet.
CHAPTER V
A SIGHT OF THE BIPLANE
“Say, things haven’t done a thing but happen to us today,” remarked Bob, when they were nearing the broad, smooth highway that led directly into Cresville.
“That’s right,” agreed Ned. “Meeting those two queer men, having them nearly take our heads off because we looked at their aeroplane, and then this mix-up with Noddy.”
“Noddy got his all right,” observed Jerry grimly. “I don’t believe, even if we’d caught him, and given him a well-deserved licking, that he’d be any worse off.”
“It was retributive justice with a vengeance,” was Ned’s further opinion. “But, speaking of queer happenings, what do you make of Brown and Black?”
“Can’t make much of them,” spoke Bob.
“I’d like to know what those tools were,” came from Jerry. “They were the queerest combination I ever saw on an aeroplane. We carry a lot on our Comet; but nothing like those, and we’ve got twice as much complicated machinery as those fellows have.”
“Sure,” agreed Ned. “Well, we’ll soon be out in the motorship again if we conclude to go to the aviation meet; and maybe they’ll have some new tools on exhibition there.”
“We’ll certainly go,” agreed Jerry. “Automobiling is all right if you’ve never sailed in the air, but once you have skimmed along above the clouds – ”
“You want to keep at it,” finished Bob. “But say, we mustn’t forget to stop, and send help out to Noddy. He’s human, even if he has done us many a mean turn.”
“That’s so. We’ll stop at Mason’s garage and tell them,” suggested Jerry. “I think – ”
But what he was thinking about he never mentioned, for at that moment he and his chums were aware of a curious throbbing and humming sound in the air, far above their heads. With one accord they gazed upward, and the sight they saw caused Jerry suddenly to shut off the power, and bring the auto to a stop.
“An aeroplane!” exclaimed Ned.
“A biplane,” supplied Bob.
“And going fast, too!” added Jerry. “Say, but they’re eating up the air-space all right!”
“I wonder if that can be Mr. Jackson?” ventured Ned.
“He’s far enough from here,” declared Jerry, referring to the millionaire whom they had so thrillingly rescued from his disabled dirigible balloon over the ocean.
“Whoever it is, he knows how to handle the craft all right,” declared Ned. “Look at that spiral dip he’s making.”
As he spoke the air machine came down a little way in a corkscrew curve.
“Wait!” exclaimed Jerry impetuously as he reached back in the tonneau and took from a pocket in the side a pair of powerful field glasses. “We’ll see what these show,” he went on, as he focused them on the distant aeroplane.
No sooner had he gotten the aircraft in his range of vision than he uttered a startled cry.
“What’s the matter?” demanded Ned.
“Some one you know?” asked Bob.
“I don’t know that we have the honor of their acquaintance,” spoke Jerry slowly, “but if that machine isn’t the Silver Star I’ll buy you fellows ice cream sodas – that’s all! Here, Ned, have a look.”
Jerry passed his chum the glasses, and no sooner had the merchant’s son gotten a good view than he exclaimed:
“You’re right! It’s Brown and Black sure enough.”
“You don’t mean to say you can make out faces at that distance,” exclaimed Bob incredulously. “Let me have a peep.”
“I can’t see their faces,” declared Ned, “but I’m sure it’s them, for it’s their machine, and they’re so touchy that they wouldn’t let any one else run it. It’s them sure.”
“I believe you,” commented Jerry. “Those are the two mysterious men we met at the hotel.”
“I wonder where they’re going?” mused Bob, as he took another look. “They’re flying high for amateurs.”
“They’ll reach Harmolet if they keep on in that direction long enough,” declared Ned. “It may be that they’re going to the meet at Colton.”
“It’s too soon for that,” was Jerry’s opinion. “But it certainly is odd that we should see those fellows again. Let me have another look, Bob.”
It was difficult now, even with the powerful glasses, to discern the aeroplane, for it was almost hidden in the haze of the upper regions. In a few seconds more it had entirely disappeared, and Jerry putting up the field glasses, started the auto.
The boys discussed the curious sight, speculating on the destination of Brown and Black, and then branched off on matters connected with their own motorship. By this time they had reached Cresville, and stopped at a garage, the owner of which promised to send out a powerful car, with ropes and pulleys, to haul Noddy from the ditch.
“Well, that’s over,” remarked Jerry, as they turned toward the home of the tall lad, where the auto was kept. “We’ve had plenty of excitement.”
“Enough for one day,” added Ned.
“But it isn’t over yet,” said Bob quickly.
“Why not?” demanded his chums together.
“There comes Andy Rush, and he acts as though he had something to tell us,” went on the stout lad.
Standing on the sidewalk, just ahead of them, and waving his arms about like those of a miniature windmill, was a small lad, bearing every evidence of great nervousness. He was jumping up and down, now running forward a few steps, and then coming to a halt.
As soon as the motor boys were within hailing distance he called to them:
“I say – stop – wait a minute – great excitement – maybe somebody killed – mine blown up perhaps – all the gold gone – maybe someone wants to buy your motorship – special message – don’t know what’s in it – fortune for you – maybe