CHAPTER XV
A WILD NIGHT
That was merely the first of a whole week of days that seemed amazinglyalike. Mr. Fulton tried to make the work as interesting as possible byletting them change off jobs as often as he could. But even then therewas little that under ordinary circumstances would interest a regularout-of-doors boy. What helped was that the circumstances were notordinary. It was all a big game to them--a fight against odds. Perhapsat times the screwing of greasy nuts on greasier bolts did not lookmuch like a game, nor did the tedious pushing of a plane or twisting abrace and bit look like a fight, but every one of the boys sensed thetense something that was back of all Mr. Fulton's cheery hustle.
They knew that his arm and shoulder hurt fearfully at times, but nevera complaint did they hear from him, although he was all sympathy overthe blood-blisters and cut hands of their own mishaps.
But the second week made up for any lack of excitement that the boyshad felt. The week was up Wednesday night. On Thursday morning Mr.Fulton met them with a white face that somehow showed the light ofbattle.
"Guess you'd better arrange, Boss Jerry, to leave a couple of yourScouts on guard here nights," was all he said, but the boys felt thatsomething disturbing had happened the night before. They questionedElizabeth when she brought their lunch, which they ate from benches andboxes to save time, but she would give them no satisfaction. Tod seemedto know something, but he too was strangely mum.
Jerry decided to remain over that night himself, and Phil, who haddropped a steel wrench across his toes and so had to remain for medicalattention anyway, offered to share the watch with him. After Mr. Fultonhad left them at about ten o'clock, they talked for awhile together,but finally they both began to yawn.
"What'll it be?" asked Phil. "Two hours at a stretch, turn and turnabout?"
"Suits me," said Jerry. "Ill take the first trick."
Phil's snoring something like fifty-nine seconds later was sufficientanswer. All was still, and Jerry set about to await midnight, when hecould hope for a brief snooze. After a while the silence began to wearon his nerves and in every night noise he fancied he heard steps. Hesat still and watchful, hardly breathing at times, his finger poisedabove a push button that would ring a bell where Mr. Fulton laystretched out on a pallet on the floor of the tiny cabin.
But midnight came and nothing had happened. He roused Phil and thenhunted himself out a soft spot in which to curl up. But he had grown soused to listening that now he found he could not stop. He triedcounting, only it was fish he was catching instead of sheep goingthrough the gap in the hedge. It was no use. At last he got up andstretched himself.
"Guess I'll take a turn around in the cool air; I can't seem to sleep."
"Gee," grumbled Phil, "and here _I_ can't seem to stay awake. Just aswell have let me slumber on in peace."
"Well, don't slumber while I'm gone, sleepyhead."
Jerry walked across the open ground and after an undecided halt, brokethrough the bushes, heavy now with dew, and made for the shore. Hestood for a long time on the bank, looking across to where the Scoutcamp lay quiet in the darkness, and then turned and was about to goback to Phil. But he paused; a steady creaking sound had broken thenight. It was drawing slowly nearer. It was a rowboat.
"Great conspirators, they are!" sniffed Jerry. "They might at leastgrease their oars." He heard the mumble of low voices, the _sush_ of aboat keel on the sand. Reaching down, he caught up a big handful ofpebbles; with a hard overhand swing he let them fly.
He heard a muttered "Ouch!" and then, after a moment's silence, oncemore the _creak-crook_ of oars. "Batter out" chuckled Jerry to himselfas he scurried back to the hangar.
After that he slept.
The boys were all excitement when he told his story next morning, butthat was nothing to compare with the exclamation that arose that sameevening when they returned to camp to find that Dave, who had been leftin charge, had disappeared, and that the place had been rifled and thentorn all to pieces. Poor Dave was found not far off, tied to a tree.His story was somewhat lacking in detail. He had sat dozing over a bookon aeronautics, when suddenly an earthquake came up and hit him overthe head. That was all he knew till he woke up tied securely to a tree.
"That settles it," declared Phil. "We ought to have done it in thefirst place, but the boss didn't think it was worth while."
"What's that?" demanded Jerry, a bit sharply.
"Well, what's the idea of our coming over here every night to sleep,when there's oodles of room there on Lost Island, where we're needed?Huh?"
"What's that 'huh'? Boy Scout for sir?" cried Jerry hotly.
Phil jumped to his feet, but to the surprise of Jerry, who had put uphis fists, the Scout Leader brought his heels together with a click andhis right hand went to the salute.
"I stand convicted," he said simply. "You're the boss of thisexpedition. What's orders?"
"Orders are to break camp--it's already pretty well broken--and takeship for Lost Island. Patrol Leader Fulton will take charge of the jobwhile Boss Ring goes off and kicks himself quietly but firmly."
They all laughed and good feeling was restored. The Scouts made shortwork of getting their traps together, even in the dark, and it was notmany minutes before the first load was on the way to Lost Island.
Jerry, Phil and Dave followed silently afterwards in the _Big Four_with the rest of the dunnage.
"You think _they_ did it?" asked Dave of no one in particular. No oneasked who _they_ were, nor did anyone answer, but each knew what theothers were thinking.
Mr. Fulton showed no surprise when told of their decision to camphenceforth on the island. "Good idea," was his only comment.
They were not disturbed that night, and the next day passed withoutincident, save that Budge had the bad luck to break a truss he had beenall day in making. "Good!" said Mr. Fulton. "That wood might havecaused a serious accident if it had got into the _Skyrocket_." Budge,knowing his awkwardness and not the timber was to blame, felt gratefulthat he had been spared the reproof that would have been natural.
They had been making good progress, in spite of their greenness; nextday Mr. Fulton was planning to stretch the silk over the planes; it hadalready been given a preliminary coat of a kind of flexible varnishwhich was also a part of Mr. Fulton's invention. The carpenter had donehis part handsomely. The launch had come down the day before with allof the heavier framework and trusses. A few rods were still to comefrom the blacksmith, and the rear elevator control was still awaited,but enough of the material had been mended and put in place to make theaeroplane look less like a wreck.
Jerry and Mr. Fulton had finally managed to master the secret of themotor; that is, they finally made it run as smoothly as a top, butneither one was ever able to tell why it had not done so from thestart. Oiled and polished, it stood on the bench till a final braceshould be forthcoming.
Camp had been pitched on the river side of the open ground, closebeside the path. The second night of their new location Mr. Fulton andElizabeth came over, Dick guarding the _Skyrocket_ and Tod remaining atthe cabin to look after poor Billings, who, thanks to the doctor'sdaily visits and his daughter's patient nursing, was growing steadilystronger. Elizabeth brought along a guitar, which she played daintily,singing the choruses of all the popular songs the boys could ask for byname. After a little bashful hesitation, Dave chimed in, while the restof the boys lay back and listened in undisguised delight.
Into this peaceful scene burst Tod, frightened out of his wits. It wasa full minute before he finally managed to gasp:
"They've come--they've been here! I didn't see them!"
"What in the world do you mean?" cried Mr. Fulton, shaking the excitedboy with his left hand. "If you didn't see them, how do you----"
"I didn't. But it's gone--the motor's gone.----"
"What!" yelled the whole crew at once.
"Dick and I sat outside the doorway, listening to you folks having agood time, and I went in to see what time it was--and ther
e was thehole in the side of the hang--hang--the shed, and the motor haddisappeared. At least that was all we noticed was gone."
The last of this was delivered on the run, for all had set out for themachine shop, Mr. Fulton having promptly vetoed Phil's plan to put acircle of Scouts around the shore.
Sure enough, a big gap showed in the side of the hangar, where twoboards had been pried loose. "Lucky you were outside," grunted Phildisgustedly, "or they'd have pulled the whole place down over yourhead."
"We've got to work fast," urged Mr. Fulton. "If they get away with themotor the stuff's all off. They're desperate men--I don't want any ofyou trying to tackle them. Scout ahead, and when you sight them, thisis the signal:" He whistled the three short notes of thewhippoor-will's call. "I've got my automatic, and I guess I can takecare of them."
As they hurried out into the night they spread out, working toward theeast side of the island. Jerry found himself next to Phil, and after afew yards he moved over closer to the Scout Leader.
"I say, Phil," he called guardedly; "you ready to listen to the wildestkind of a notion?"
"Shoot," came the answer.
"I don't believe our visitors came on the island for that motor at all.What good would it do them?"
"It'd stop our launching the _Skyrocket_, for one thing."
"But there are lots of lighter things that would do that. I don't trustthose two ruffians--or their boss, either."
"Well, who does?"
"That's not the point. Mr. Fulton figures that they merely want to keepthose others from buying his idea, so that when the first optionexpires, _they_ can. But if they could steal the plans in themeanwhile--get me?"
"I get you. Then you think that stealing the motor was just a blind,and that they are----"
"Getting us out of the road so they can take their time going throughthe workshop. If we're wrong, there's plenty of Scouts out trailingthem--it'd be too late anyway, as it's only a few hundred feet to wherethey would have left their boat. What say we sneak back, see if there'sa gun at the cabin, and take them by surprise when they startburglarizing the hangar?"
Phil turned about by way of answer, and stealthily they approached thecabin. A light showed dim in the invalid's room, and through thecurtained window they could see Elizabeth's long braids bent over abook. She merely looked up when they stopped at the window, and at oncecame out the back door to where they stood.
"Is there a gun in the house?" questioned Phil.
"A thirty-two Colts," she replied. "Want it?"
"Quick as we can have it. _They_ are on the island."
But she did not wait to hear the rest of his explanation. In a jiffyshe had brought them an ugly looking revolver. "Be careful," she saidas she handed it to Phil; "it shoots when you pull the trigger."
The boys stole across the narrow space between the cabin and thehangar, and flattened themselves against the log walls as they woundtheir way toward the little "night door" near the other end. As theypassed the big sliding doors they paused an instant and pressed theirears close against the planks, but all was still. Both had an instantof disappointment, for they were counting strongly on being able tocrow over the rest.
But when they came to the crack where the two doors came together, andlooked within, their spirits jumped up till they hardly knew whetherthey were pleased or frightened. For just an instant a flash lamp hadlighted up the darkness!
Not quite so cautiously now, and a good deal faster, they made theirway to the little door, guided by their sense of feeling, for the nightwas black as the pitch in the old saying. Jerry turned the catch firmlybut slowly, and the door swung open without a creak. They steppedinside.
They were now in a walled off ante-room used for small supplies. Itopened into the main workshop by means of a narrow doorway. Standing inthe middle of the tiny room they had a full view of the whole place.Like two monstrous fireflies a pair of dark figures darted about,ransacking Mr. Fulton's desk, tearing open the lockers and cupboards,searching out every likely nook and cranny where papers might be hid,their flashlights throwing dazzling light on each object of theirsuspicion.
The two boys realized suddenly that the attention of the two had beenfocused in their direction, and Jerry jumped back behind the shelter ofthe door-edge just in time to escape the blinding rays of theflashlights. Phil evidently realized that their time of grace was overand there was nothing to be gained in further delay.
With raised pistol he stepped out into the light.
"Hands up!" he ordered gruffly. "Your little game is ended forto-night."
But he had miscalculated somewhat. With startling suddenness darknessclosed in about them, there was a quick rush across the littered floor,a thud as a heavy body dashed against the shed wall and crashed throughthe inch boards. Phil's gun roared out twice. As the two boys hastenedto the gap in the wall they could hear the crash of the pair as theytore madly through the brush. Then all was still again.
But not for long. Panting from the run, Mr. Fulton and three of theScouts came chasing like mad through the darkness.
"What's happened?" he cried when he saw it was Jerry and Phil. Helistened as patiently as possible to their disconnected story, laughinggrimly at the end. "Well, they'll swim it to shore, because we foundtheir boat, and we sunk it under about a ton of stones."
"Yes, but----" began Jerry, a premonition of further disaster in hismind and on the tip of his tongue, when from the east shore of LostIsland came wild cries of rage and chagrin. "Just what I thought!"exclaimed Jerry, by way of finishing out his sentence.
"What's that?" demanded Mr. Fulton and Phil in a breath.
But Jerry did not answer. There was no need. Down the path came anexcited group, shouting:
"Somebody's made off with the _Big Four!_"