"What did you have those stones on board for?" demanded John.

The _Clarion_ men were silent. Their leader was the first to reply.

"We got some kola nuts from the natives at one of our stops, and wanted the stones to crack them with," stated Deveaux.

"It's a lie!" accused Paul. "Stones do not accidentally fall as straight as those did. Pete Deveaux, you and your crowd did the best you could to wreck us, and I'm going to take it out of your hide right now!"

"Oh, you are, are you?" sneered the French aviator. "It seems to me I'll have something to say about that, you young whippersnapper! If these friends of yours will keep out of this, I'll promise my boys will keep out, and I'll give you all the show you want."

"Fair play; that's right!" cried Mr. Sh.o.r.eman, stepping forward. He had heard enough to convince him that nothing but a fistic settlement of the controversy would be adequate, and, with the help of several white traders and sailors, he formed a ring.

Like lightning the word went out, and scores of natives came running up to see the encounter. An affair of this kind just suited their primitive instincts; it was even a greater treat than seeing an airplane land upon their fair island.

So by the time that Paul and Pete Deveaux had thrown off their coats, a great ring of natives surrounded them, and in its front were numerous whites from the ships in the harbor.

Pete Deveaux was inwardly very nervous, although he was careful not to show it. Had Paul not been so much younger, Deveaux would probably have made some excuse to back out of the fight. As it was, he had a sneaking hope of getting the better of Paul, now that the youth's friends had agreed not to interfere. He also hoped to injure the boy so badly in the encounter that he could not take his turn operating the Sky-Bird for the rest of the journey; at least, cripple him enough to delay his party in getting away from the island.

With these evil intents the French flyer conceived still another. He stepped aside and whispered something in Chuck Crossman's ear, then came back and faced Paul.

Mr. Sh.o.r.eman gave the signal, and Pete Deveaux feinted and shot his other fist savagely at Paul's eye. But the boy was wary, dodged the blow, and struck his adversary a hard one in the chest. For a moment Deveaux was staggered; but he quickly recovered, and once more sprang forward.

Missing with his right, he succeeded in hitting Paul in the shoulder with his left. Wheeling like a flash, Paul shot out a fist before the Frenchman could recover his guard, and struck him a smash under the ear which sent him reeling back into his friends.

Pete Deveaux was now thoroughly alarmed. He had not expected such science, nor such force, on the part of his opponent. He approached Paul with much more caution, amid the howls of the natives, and decided to let him take the offensive.

Paul was willing. Encouraged by his success thus far, and bent upon ending the fracas as soon as possible, he met his adversary with a heavy swing which just cleared the man's ear. Deveaux struck, but missed also. Pressed backward, he clinched to save himself, and in this position, where n.o.body could see his movements, he viciously tried to put some short jabs into Paul's abdomen.

Fortunately for himself Paul succeeded in breaking away before he was doubled up by the blows, one of which had landed with sufficient power to make him utter an involuntary smothered exclamation of pain.

"No more of that, Mr. Deveaux!" warned the referee suspiciously, as Paul shoved his opponent back. "Keep out of the clinches! Fight fair!"

"Fair! Fair!" yelled the sailors; and the natives took up the cry in their own language.

Paul now advanced, and Pete Deveaux retreated. The latter was really frightened. Something was beginning to tell him that in this youth of eighteen he had met his superior.

"I think we'd better quit, Ross, before we hurt each other," suggested the French flyer cravenly. "This flight business of ours won't stand such delays as this. We can have this out when we land in Panama."

"No, we can't have it out in Panama!" cried Paul. "Stand up if you're a man and settle this thing right now. Watch out; I'm coming!"

By this time Pete Deveaux had retreated to the lower end of the improvised ring. He saw that he was cornered; that he must fight once more. Lunging forward like a trapped rat, he struck a wicked blow for his opponent's head.

Paul parried it, and as swift as a stroke of lightning his right hand streaked out and caught Deveaux under the jaw. The Frenchman reeled backward a few steps, and toppled over, full length upon the ground.

What a cry went up from the onlookers! By this time the sympathies of every one, except Deveaux's own comrades, were with the youth. No one, even a half-civilized savage, at heart likes a coward.

For a few moments Pete Deveaux was dazed. But after his cronies had helped him to his feet, and started away with him, he still had enough spite left to shout back, as he shook a fist: "We're not done with you fellows yet!"

Paul was now the recipient of congratulations from all sides.

Everybody wished to slap him on the shoulder or shake hands with him, it seemed, and the native populace gave him so many cocoanuts, bananas, and pineapples that he was literally hemmed in with fruit, and John, Bob, and Tom had to open up a pathway before he could get out of his sweet-smelling barricade.

Our flyers put as much of the gifts in the cabin of the Sky-Bird as they could find room for, including an abundance of nuts for the happy Grandpa, and then they turned their attention to the pressing business of overhauling the engines and storing fuel.

While they were thus engaged, the _Clarion's_ motor was heard to start; and a few moments later she arose and took off to sea.

"Humph!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Tom, "those fellows have beat us to it again."

"They ought to; didn't they arrive ahead of us?" asked Tom.

"We'll be out of here in fifteen minutes more," stated John.

But the words were no more than out of his mouth when Paul, who had been inspecting the rear end of the machine came dashing excitedly forward, crying:

"Fellows, hob is to pay! Those rascals have cut the wire braces that support the tail-skid, and it's lopping away over!"

CHAPTER XXVIII

A MIX-UP IN DATES

Paul's announcement threw his friends into a state of consternation.

As they viewed the wire braces, neatly cut with a pair of nippers, they recalled Pete Deveaux's act of whispering in the ear of one of his party just preceding the recent fight, and realized now its full import. This fellow had slunk out of the crowd, slipped over to the unguarded airplane, and performed the unprincipled trick without any risk of being caught at it.

Since there was no chance for immediate redress from the guilty party, who were almost out of sight to the eastward, all our flyers could do was to bend every effort to make repairs as fast as possible. After considerable skirmishing around, they managed to secure some wire from one of the vessels in the harbor. The severed strands were then removed and new pieces cut to length.

It was found that the weight of the machine upon the unsupported skid, had cracked the skid past repair; so they had to whittle out another from some tough wood, which the natives brought them from the nearby forest, before they could connect the new wires and were ready to start.

Finally they took off at a few minutes past noon, more than three hours behind their rivals. It was disheartening, to say the least--all the more so on account of the fact that their delay had again been caused by the sinister acts of the other crew. They made up their minds that if they should meet Pete Deveaux and his crowd at another stop, something worse than a single fistic encounter would take place!

As they soared away toward Nukahiva, with Upolu growing constantly dimmer, John, who had been studying the schedule, turned to his companions and asked:

"Do any of you fellows know what date this is?"

"Let's see," mused Bob, at the throttle; "we left Port Darwin the evening of the 26th; the evening of the 27th we were still at sea, and the next morning--the 28th--"

"You're ahead of time just one day," laughed John. "This is the 27th of the month."

"How do you make that out?" asked Bob. "Didn't we leave Port Darwin on the 26th?"

"Yes," admitted John.

"And the following evening we were at sea?'

"Granted. That was last evening--the 27th."

"Then any dunce can see that to-day is the 28th," said Bob witheringly.

"That's what I say, too," supported Paul.