The Girl Aviators' Motor Butterfly - Part 11
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Part 11

"Then come into the house a minute. Dad and I want to talk to you."

So saying Dan took the Norwegian by the arm and led him in through a gate in a whitewashed picket fence. Beyond the fence was a fairly prosperous looking house, on the piazza of which lounged Jim Ca.s.sell smoking a cigar.

"Well, Tam," he said, "lost your job?"

The Norwegian replied in the affirmative.

"Well, never mind, I've got another for you," replied Jim Ca.s.sell, in what was for him an unwontedly amiable tone; "can you go to work at once?"

"Ay bane work any time skol be," spoke the Norwegian, and a puzzled expression flitted over his face as both Ca.s.sells broke into what was to him an inexplicable fit of laughter at his words.

In the meantime the boys had telephoned to the hotel that work on the aeroplanes would detain them till late. They did not wish to inform the girls that they were undertaking a night watch, as that would have led to all sorts of questions, and if their fears proved ungrounded they felt pretty sure of coming in for a lot of "joshing."

They agreed to divide the night into two parts, Jimsy watching till midnight and then awakening Roy who would take up the vigil till dawn.

This arrangement having been made they secured a light lantern from an adjacent hardware store and, entering the deserted livery stable, prepared to carry out their plans. With the canvas covers of the aeroplanes Roy managed to fix up quite a comfortable bed on a pile of hay left in a sort of loft over the abandoned stable.

As for Jimsy, he made himself as comfortable as possible in the cha.s.sis of the _Golden b.u.t.terfly_, the seats of which were padded as luxuriously as those of a touring car. He had a book dealing with aeronautic subjects with him, and, drawing the lantern close to the aeroplane, he buried himself in the volume.

In the meantime Roy had rolled himself up in his canvas coverings and was sound asleep. For a long time Jimsy read on. At first frequent footsteps pa.s.sed the door of the stable, but as it grew later these ceased. Folks went to bed early in Meadville. Long before midnight there was not a sound on the streets.

Jimsy read doggedly on. But he was painfully conscious of an almost irresistible desire to lie back and doze off, if only for a few seconds.

The exciting events of the day had tired him out, nor was the book he was reading one calculated to keep his wits stirring. It was a technical work of abstruse character.

Jimsy's head began to nod. With a sharp effort he aroused himself only to catch himself dozing off once more.

"See here, Jim Bancroft, this won't do," he sharply admonished himself, "you're on duty, understand? On duty! Wake up and keep your eyes open."

But try as he would tired Nature finally a.s.serted herself. Jimsy's head fell forward, his eyes closed for good and he snored in right good earnest. He was sound asleep.

It was about half an hour after he dozed off that a window in the rear of the stable framed a face. A crafty, eager face it was, as the yellow light of the lantern revealed its outlines. Dan Ca.s.sell, for it was he, gazed sharply about him. He swiftly took in the posture of the sleeping boy and a smile spread over his countenance.

Dropping from the ladder he had raised outside, he joined two figures waiting for him in the shadow of the livery barn.

"It's too easy," he chuckled, "only one kid there and he's sound asleep.

Got everything ready?"

"Dey all bane ready, Maister Ca.s.sell," rejoined the slow, drawling voice of the Norwegian Tam.

"Now don't botch the job," warned the elder Ca.s.sell, who was the third member of the party; "remember it means a lot of trouble for us if we're caught."

"No danger of that, dad. Come on, I'll go first and you and Tam follow."

"Is the window open?"

"No, but it slides back. It's an easy drop to the floor from it."

"All right, go ahead. I'll be glad when the job's over. I'm almost inclined to drop out of it."

"And let those kids get away with what they did? Not much, dad. We'll give them a lesson they won't forget in a hurry. Come on."

He began climbing the ladder. Behind him came his worthy parent, and Tam formed the last member of the now silent procession. The Norwegian carried a bulky package of some kind, the contents of which it would have been impossible to guess save that it gave out a metallic sound as Tam moved with it.

Dan Ca.s.sell reached the window, slid it noiselessly back in its grooves and then, crawling through, dropped lightly to the floor within. He was followed by his father and Tam.

But Jimsy slept on. Slept heavily and dreamlessly, while deadly peril crept upon him.

CHAPTER X.

PEGGY'S INTUITION.

The movements of the invaders of the stable, which now housed the "winged steeds" of the young aviators, were mysterious in the extreme.

The Norwegian carried a tin can containing some sort of liquid which he was ordered to pour about the floor in the neighborhood of the aeroplanes. This done, Dan Ca.s.sell collected several sc.r.a.ps of litter and made quite a pile of it.

"All ready now, I guess," he said, with what was meant as an attempt at a grin. But his lips were pale, and his forced jollity was a dismal failure. As for his father, he made no attempt to conceal his agitation.

"Dan, they may be burned alive," he faltered; "better call it all off."

"Not when we've gone as far as this with it," was the rejoinder; "give me a match."

"Dan!"

"It's all right, dad. They'll wake in time."

"But if not?"

"Then they'll have to take their medicine."

With fingers that trembled as if their owner was palsied, Jim Ca.s.sell handed his son some matches. The latter took one, bent low over the pile he had collected and struck the lucifer.

A yellow sputter of flame followed, and the next instant he was holding it to the pile of litter which had been previously soaked by the contents of the Norwegian's can.

But before he could accomplish his purpose and set fire to the pile of odds and ends saturated to double inflammability by the kerosene the Norwegian had carried, there came a startling interruption.

There was a knock at the door and a girlish voice cried:

"Roy! Roy, let me in!"

"Furies!" exclaimed Dan Ca.s.sell under his breath. "It's one of those girls."

"Come on. Let's get away quick!" exclaimed his father, trembling from nervous agitation.

"Not before I set a match to this," exclaimed Dan Ca.s.sell viciously.

He touched the match to the pile and the flames leaped up.