SOMETHING ABOUT THE BOYS

No, it struck that tree and bounced off in this direction.”

“What do you think it was, Joe?”

“I haven’t the least idea, Fred. I don’t see what such an aviator could be carrying in a box.”

“Maybe it was a tool box,” suggested Link as he strode on beside his friends.

“A tool box would be fastened so it couldn’t drop, I think,” replied Harry. “Well, we’ll soon know. I only hope it wasn’t smashed to pieces by the fall.”

“Maybe he’ll come back for it,” suggested Joe, as he looked up in the direction of the biplane.

“Doesn’t look so now,” replied his brother, as the flying machine was all but lost to sight in the direction of Owl Lake.

“That aviator may not know that he dropped anything—being so busy looking after the machine,” was Fred’s comment. And then all made their way into the bushes where they thought the strange object had dropped.

   To the readers of the former volumes in this “Lakeport Series” the go-ahead lads already introduced will need no special introduction. For the benefit of others allow me to state that all belonged in the town of Lakeport, a bustling little place, located at one end of Pine Lake. In this town the father of Joe and Harry Westmore was the leading grain merchant, and Fred Rush’s parent kept a hardware store. Link Darrow was the son of the leading carpenter, while Bart Mason’s father was interested in various lines of business.

  In my first volume, called “The Gun Club Boys of Lakeport,” I told how Joe, Harry, and Fred organized their club, and how they went forth for some winter sport in the woods. They took with them old Joel Runnell, a well-known hunter, and journeyed to Pine Island, near the head of the lake. Here the lads had a good time generally and incidentally managed to get the better of a miserly real-estate dealer who was trying to defraud the Westmore family out of some valuable real estate.

   With the coming of summer the thoughts of the lads turned to baseball. From his father Link got permission to use the upper part of the carpenter shop for a meeting place, and there the boys organized their ball club, as related in detail in “The Baseball Boys of Lakeport.” On this nine, Joe was the pitcher, while Fred was the catcher. Harry covered first base and Link second, with big Bart on third. A lively lad named Matt Roscoe was shortstop, and Walter Bannister was left fielder and Frank Pemberton right fielder. Among the substitutes was Teddy Dugan, a bright Irish lad, witty and loyal to the last degree. The lads played some great games, and also had much trouble with their rivals, Si Voup and his crony, Ike Boardman. Si was rich and a bully, and he and Ike did some things that came near getting them into trouble with the authorities.

   Not a great many miles from Lakeport was the town of Brookside, and there some of the boys, led by George Dixon, had organized a boat club. At once the others caught the “fever.”

“If Brookside can have a boat club, so can we,” declared Harry.

  “Sure thing,” returned Paul Shale, whose uncle owned a fine sailboat, and who often allowed Paul to use the craft. Then came a chance to buy some shells and other rowing things at a bargain, and how the boys got the outfit, and how they rowed some great races, has already been related in “The Boat Club Boys of Lakeport.”

   Football is a favorite sport everywhere, and at certain times of the year the lads of Lakeport found it impossible to keep off the gridiron. They joined a football league, as related in “The Football Boys of Lakeport,” being coached by an experienced man named Carl Bellman. They had an uphill fight for the pennant, and once again their old enemy, Si Voup, did all in his power to make them lose.

   Following the football season had come a winter of hard work in school for nearly all the boys, livened up only by an outing around the holidays, when some of them had gone camping and hunting. Then had come spring, and the lads had wondered what they would do during the summer. Some wanted to play ball while others wanted to row.

   Living on the outskirts of the town was a rich gentleman named Munroe Corsen. He had a daughter Violet, whom Harry had once saved from the savage attack of a bull. Later, Violet was abducted by some evil men, who held her hoping thereby to make Mr. Corsen do what they wanted. The boys got on the trail of the abductors and saved the girl and restored her to her parents. For this Mr. and Mrs. Corsen were deeply grateful, and [15]the gentleman insisted upon aiding the lads in many ways. He had a fine six-cylinder automobile, and when he and his family left Lakeport for a tour of Europe he asked Joe Westmore how he would like to have the use of the car for the time being.

   “First-rate!” cried Joe; and a little later the big automobile was turned over to him and his brother and their friends. As soon as the boys learned how to run the machine they got up a party for a long tour, as related in the volume preceding this, entitled “The Automobile Boys of Lakeport.” They were followed by the envious Si Voup and Ike Boardman, and these unworthies did all they could, as usual, to spoil things. But once again the bully and his crony were outwitted, and then they returned home in disgust.

   Following the long tour had come several shorter ones, Joe taking out the various members of the baseball and football teams, and the rowing club, and also some others, including his sister Laura and Cora Runnell, the daughter of the old hunter. Then had come word that the Corsen family were coming back and he knew that the big touring car would soon have to be returned to its owner.

   “Let us have what fun we can with it,” he said to some of the others, and then Harry and Fred proposed an all-day tour around the lake. Link and Bart were invited to go along, and the five lads took with them a substantial lunch to eat on the way.

  For an hour the boys in the automobile had rolled along over the roads, all enjoying themselves hugely. Then had come the discovery of the biplane and the aged aviator, the eccentric flying of the machine, and then the falling of the object into the bushes.

“It certainly struck that tree,” remarked Harry, as he pushed forward. “See where it broke off two of the smaller limbs.”

“Then it must have bounced off in this direction,” returned his brother, turning to the right.

“Wow! look out for the thorns!” burst out Fred, who was somewhat stout and therefore not so well able to get between the bushes.

Joe had noticed the broken tops of some bushes not far from the tree and thither he made his way. Then he caught sight of a dark, square object caught between several upright branches, and he uttered a cry:

“There it is!”

“What is it?” queried Link and Bart in a breath.

“A black tin box, the kind they use for bank papers.”

“Oh, maybe it’s got money in it!” gasped Harry.

“How much do you suppose?” panted Fred, trying to worm his way from out of some bushes where he was stuck.

“I don’t believe there is any money in it,” answered Joe. “What would that man be doing with a box of money in a biplane?”

“He might be a bank robber,” suggested Link.

“Not that man,” answered Harry. “Why, he was quite old.”

“Well, criminals get old, don’t they?”

By this time Joe had managed to get within reaching distance of the black tin box. It was tightly wedged between the stalks of the bushes and he had considerable difficulty in dislodging it. It was scratched in several places and one side was dented in, but otherwise it was in good condition.

“What is in it?” asked Link, impatiently, as all gathered around their leader, for such Joe had always been.

Joe did not answer at once. He turned the box over several times. At one end were the initials A. A. A.

“Go on and open it, Joe,” put in Fred, who was as impatient as Link. Indeed all in the crowd were anxious to know what the box contained.

On one side of the box was a tiny keyhole. But [18]the key was missing. Joe tried in vain to pull up the cover.

“It’s locked,” he said, at last.

“Oh, pshaw! Can’t you open it at all?” pleaded Link.

“Not without a key.”

“Here, try my bunch,” cried Bart, and brought forth a ring full of keys of various kinds. But none was small enough for that box.

“Have we a right to open the box?” said Harry. “Remember, it belongs to that aviator.”

“It does if he is Mr. A. A. A.,” put in Fred. “Maybe that stands for Ancient American Aviators,” he added, and this sally caused a short laugh.

“Perhaps we had better not try to open it,” said Joe. “It may contain documents that A. A. A. would not want us to see. We had better look for that flying machine. He’ll be coming back when he learns that his box is missing.”

The matter was discussed for a few minutes and the others agreed that Joe was right. All made their way back to the automobile. There Harry took the box and shook it.

“Papers of some kind,” he announced. “Papers—or banknotes!”

“Supposing it is full of banknotes, and that [19]fellow never comes back for it,” cried Link, his eyes glistening. “What a find! We’ll be entitled to divide, won’t we?”

“Don’t be silly, Link,” replied Harry. “He’ll be back, don’t worry.”

“If he didn’t fall and break his neck,” murmured Bart. “That was sure the craziest flying I ever heard about.”

Now that the boys were back in the automobile they scarcely knew what to do. The black tin box was placed in the tonneau.

“I’ll tell you what we might do,” suggested Harry. “We might follow that side road up to Owl Lake and see if we can spot the biplane around there. The road is pretty good. I was on it once with a bicycle, with Paul Shale.”

“What would that aviator be doing at Owl Lake?” asked his brother. “I don’t believe he could land there—it’s too full of rocks and bushes.”

“Well, he went that way, anyway,” returned the younger Westmore.

The others were in favor of following the road to Owl Lake, and soon the automobile was on the way, Joe driving the car as before. They had to proceed slowly, for the road had many turns and was not nearly so smooth as the highway they had left.

It was a full two miles to the little lake nestling among the hills. Most of the way was between the trees, but there were some cleared patches, and when these were gained all in the touring car would look skyward, hoping for a sight of the flying machine. But not a trace of the biplane was to be seen.

“Well, here we are,” announced Joe at last, as they came in view of the water.

“And not a sign of the flying machine,” said Link.

“Are you going back, or going ahead?” questioned Fred.

“I don’t know anything about the road,” answered Joe.

“Humph! I guess it ends here,” cried Harry. “I don’t see any more of it.” And he was right, the wood road ran no further.

The boys got out and walked along the shore of the lake, and also scanned the sky. There was no breeze and not a leaf was stirring. It was extremely quiet.

“If that motor was going we could hear it miles off,” was Bart’s conclusion. “I reckon we may as well go back.”

“But the box——” began Fred.

“We can take it home,” answered Joe. “I guess [21]that’s the only thing to do. Maybe that man will advertise for it.”

The automobile was turned around and Joe started to pilot it back to the main highway. Then of a sudden he brought the machine to a stop and shut off the power.

“Listen!” he cried and held up his hand.