The Aeroplane Boys on the Wing Part 4

CHAPTER V.

A WARM FIVE MINUTES.

"Fire! Fire!"

So Frank shouted, even as he jumped over the fence, and made a bee line for the center of the big field, where the shed lay in which the precious monoplane was stored.

He had hastily leaned his bicycle against the fence as he made the plunge. Nor did he cease to let out constant yells while running across the open as fast as his agile legs could carry him. Twice he tripped over some object and nearly fell, only to recover himself and speed on.

As he ran he kept his eyes upon the low building beyond. In this manner he plainly saw the stooping figure of a man or boy making off in a roundabout way so as to avoid him.

Frank's heart was burning with indignation because of this dastardly attempt to ruin the gallant little airs.h.i.+p that had so n.o.bly stood all tests and proven itself a splendid piece of workmans.h.i.+p.

"Oh, the contemptible coward! I'd just like to chase after him and get my hands on him once!" was the thought that pa.s.sed through his brain.

But he knew he could not. The scoundrel, no matter who it was, must be allowed to escape in order that he turn his attention to the burning shed and try to save the airs.h.i.+p from destruction. Once the fire got inside, there was enough of the dangerous gasoline about to insure the speedy burning of the whole flimsy fabric, all but the motor itself.

So Frank kept headed straight for the hangar, trying to shut out the sight of that crouching, fleeing figure. He continued to lift his st.u.r.dy young voice in repeated shouts:

"Fire! Fire!"

Those in the house must hear; yes, and the neighbors, too. He might not be able to master the flames alone and single handed, and would need help. Besides, it was only right that Andy, being part owner in the monoplane, should be made aware of its sudden peril.

As he thus drew near the low building he saw that the fire had already gained considerable headway, just as if the incendiary might have used kerosene or some other inflammable fluid, to hasten matters.

Frank's heart grew cold as ice as he contemplated the rapidity with which those hungry flames were crawling up the dry boards that const.i.tuted the side of the shed.

But he did not lose his head in this sudden crisis. It was characteristic of Frank Bird that, no matter what the emergency, he was always cool enough to think out the proper thing to be done or else jump at it through instinct.

And Frank had foreseen just some such possible need as this. He even kept several buckets of moist sand handy, where it could be s.n.a.t.c.hed up at a second's warning, knowing that most fires can be smothered, when quenching them with water is out of the question.

"The buckets!" he gasped, as he arrived close to the building, one part of which was now fairly covered with the creeping tongues of ruddy fire. "I must use them on it!"

He had to turn the corner of the shed to get to where they stood. And as he did so he ran plump into a figure that was coming toward him. Just in time did Frank dodge a big fist that shot out. And in that second he recognized in the other Shea, the Irishman who had been hired to keep watch of the shed.

"Hold on, Shea!" shouted Frank. "It's me, Frank Bird. Somebody has set fire to the shed! Grab up a bucket of sand and carry it around here. We can put it out yet if we're busy!"

Shea had evidently only been aroused from a sound sleep by the approaching cries of the boy and was still in a daze. He had discovered the fire, and hearing Frank running toward him, supposed that this must be the one who had done the evil deed.

But he had sense enough to do as he was told now, s.n.a.t.c.hing up one of the sand buckets and following the boy. Frank immediately commenced fighting the flames with a vim. He slapped the wet sand at the creeping fire, and wherever it struck there seemed to come a quick abatement of the conflagration. But it was by this time so extended that as fast as he succeeded in knocking it out in one place it cropped up afresh somewhere else.

His ammunition would not last if this kept up.

"Get busy, Shea!" he cried. "Find something and slap at the fire for all you're worth! Fight it, man, fight it!"

As Frank happened to turn his head to learn what the other was doing he saw something that made very little impression on his mind just then, but which had considerable bearing on the matter later.

A light was speeding along the road, heading away from town, and Frank realized that the firebug had seized upon his convenient wheel and was making his escape.

Later on he might figure out the meaning of this movement. Just then he really had no time to give it a thought, no matter if a dozen wheels were concerned. The fire demanded every atom of his attention.

Shea did get busy. Once he became stirred up, and he proved a valuable helper. He went for the flames tooth and nail, smothered them with his coat, regardless of consequences, after he had slipped that article of wearing apparel off; kicked and tore and fought until it became evident that between them they were certainly making a decided impression on the threatening conflagration.

All this while it seemed to Frank that his heart was in his throat. Not so much because he feared that they would fail to gain the mastery over the fire as that some spark might find ingress to the shed and happen to alight upon a can of the dangerous gasoline.

If such a thing occurred he knew that it would be all over. The hangar must be completely destroyed and, of course, their little darling airs.h.i.+p would share in its fate.

So, even though he saw the end of the conflagration in sight, Frank knew he had no reason to breathe easily until every spark had been trampled under foot.

By now he was conscious of loud shouts coming from points near at hand and realized that doubtless Andy as well as others had been awakened by the racket and were coming on the run to a.s.sist. Had the safety of the airs.h.i.+p depended on their reaching the shed in time, though, its chances would have been next to nothing.

Frank was just stamping on what seemed to be the very last vestige of the fire when Andy came galloping to his side.

"W-what's all this mean, Frank? Where in the wide world did you come from, and who set our hangar afire?" he gasped, almost winded from his exertions, for he had dressed in about a minute, despite his trembling fingers, and was barefooted even then.

"Don't know who did it, but he ran off on my wheel a few minutes ago. I was on the way home--carrying medicine to Susie Lovejoy. Saw flames and gave alarm. Got here on the jump and we managed to get the better of it. But it was a close shave, all right, I tell you, Andy!"

Frank himself had no breath to spare, nor could it be wondered at, considering the recent valiant fight which he had made against big odds.

"So the ornery skunks _did_ try to burn us out, after all!" burst forth the other part owner of the monoplane, bitterly. "Say, where was Shea all this time? What use was he as a watchman?"

"He helped me good and hard at any rate. Only for Shea I'd never have got the better of it, I'm afraid," said Frank, always ready to cover up any little failing on the part of another, though never hesitating to denounce his own shortcomings.

"But just to think of the meanness of it all," continued Andy, shaking his head in the aggressive way he had. "That Puss Carberry ought to be shut up behind bars, that's my opinion straight from the shoulder, and if I could only find out for sure that he was in this I'd get Colonel Josiah to prosecute him to the limit."

"But we have no proof that it was Puss," remarked Frank. "The fellow who stole my wheel went off along the road _away_ from town. And he went licketty split, too, as if he had business over in Shelby or Newtown. Perhaps it was only a hobo. He may have started the fire by accident, and was trying to put it out when I saw him first. Then, when I shouted, of course, he had to scoot."

"What's this?" demanded Andy, kicking some object, and then seizing hold of his foot, for he had forgotten that he had no shoes on.

Frank uttered a cry and picked it up.

"Look here, don't you recognize this?" he asked, as he held a can up.

It was Andy's turn to give vent to a low exclamation.

"Why, it's our kerosene can, Frank!" he said.

"That's what I thought. And it is kept on a bench just outside the kitchen door, isn't it?" demanded the other, quickly.

"That's a fact. And neither of us ever brought it here. Shea, did you ever see this oil can before?" and Andy dangled it before the eyes of the watchman who had slept on his post.

"I niver did the same, sor," replied the man, as he surveyed the can.

"Then that settles it, Frank. The mean skunk grabbed that can and fetched it over here to spray the wall of the shed with oil and making the fire jump."

"True as you live," said the other. "Do you know, I thought I smelled burning kerosene. And that was why the flames kept crawling up everywhere so fast. Well, it was a good job that we saved the place. And ain't I glad I didn't wait just five minutes longer at Lovejoy's place. Nothing could have helped then, and we'd just have to build another airs.h.i.+p. But here comes the colonel stumping along, Andy!"