Boy Scouts of the Air on Lost Island Part 26

"Why it's Fulton's kid," exclaimed Bignold, for the first time recognizing him. "Say, you tell your dad that he's been stirring up this town till it's wild with excitement. Three telegrams this day, not to mention a special delivery letter that they've been hunting all over the country for him with. And on top of that, an important little man with bra.s.s b.u.t.tons and shoulder-straps, struttin' all over the place and askin' everybody if he's Mr. Fulton, the inventor. When'd your dad get to be an inventor?"

"Well, he had to be born sometime," answered Tod dryly.

"Eh? Well, you'd best tell that same little busy-bee where your father can be found. And the telegrams; don't forget them."

"I won't," answered Tod, starting off toward town on the run. "Watch the old _Skyrocket_ till I get back, will you, Jerry?" and he was gone.

Two stiff, sleepy, disgusted boys sat up in their nest of blankets and looked at each other through the framework of the _Skyrocket_ next morning at something like seven o'clock.

"And you said you wouldn't go to sleep," each said slowly and accusingly to the other, then both grinned sheepishly.

"Oh, well, the machine's still here, so why grouch over a couple hours'

sleep?" Tod defended. "Huh--I suppose not. But I'll bet dad had a good laugh over us when he came down here about breakfast time. What's that pinned to your blanket?"

Tod crawled out of his nest and pulled loose the sc.r.a.p of paper that had been pinned in the region of his big toe.

"It's a note. Want to hear it? It says, 'Mother Ring tells me pancakes are ready for you when you've finished your guard-mount. Signed--A Burglar.' That's sure one on us."

It was scant justice that the two did to breakfast that morning. Four telegrams were burning holes in Tod's pockets; he could hardly keep from tearing them open, so curious was he to know their contents. Even the newspaper that Mrs. King brought in and laid beside their plates, could not entirely hold their attention, in spite of the startling news headlined on the front page. "BREAK WITH GERMANY--U. S. on Verge of Being Drawn Into World War."

"We'll take it with us and read it after we get there. No--not another cake, Mrs. Ring. Excuse us, please--we've got to go."

"It seems a shame----" began Tod, when they were once more outside, then asked abruptly: "Willing to take a licking, Jerry?"

"And go back on the _Skyrocket_? Did you think we were going any other way? And leave the machine here for anybody to come along and study out--or steal? Not much! I'll take a dozen lickings!"

But he didn't. When the _Skyrocket_ finally circled about Lost Island and settled down over the narrow landing field as easily as a homing pigeon, to come to a stop with hardly a jar, it was bringing news to Mr. Fulton that was bound to soften the heart of any dad.

Tod's father was out in front of the little cabin, a bit pale and shaky, but cheerful. His face lighted up wonderfully when he saw the _Skyrocket_ aground and the two boys safe. He tried to rise to greet them, but had to be satisfied to wave his hand instead. The two boys came running over to where he sat, eager to tell their story.

"What's happened?" Mr. Fulton asked excitedly before they could begin.

He was pointing at the newspaper Jerry had been waving wildly as they raced across the open.

"War--maybe--with Germany! But we've more important news than that--for us just now, at least. Telegrams--four of them--look. And an officer's been looking for you----"

"Police?" asked Mr. Fulton gravely.

"Army!" exploded Tod and Jerry together. "Bet it's about the----"

They paused, for Mr. Fulton was not listening to them. He had torn one of the telegraph envelopes open and was reading the brief message, his face going first red and then white.

"What's all the excitement?" demanded a slow voice in which there was a trace of resentment. It was Mr. Harris, who had appeared in the doorway of the cabin.

"Nothing much," answered Mr. Fulton. "Nothing at all. In fact, the excitement's all over. I'm certainly very glad that you balked yesterday on buying that 'pig in a poke,' my dear baronet. It seems,"

flapping the opened telegram against his other hand, "it seems, my very dear sir, that the American government, being confronted by a situation which bears more than a promise of war, has offered to buy the ideas which are embodied in the _Skyrocket_."

"Hooray for Uncle Sammy!" shouted Tod.

All the boys had come crowding around, slapping Tod and Jerry wildly on the back and cheering till their throats were hoa.r.s.e. It was fully five minutes before anyone could make himself heard above the din. Finally Mr. Fulton raised his hand for a chance to be heard, and after one rousing shout of "Three cheers for the Scouts of the Air!" the noisy crew quieted down.

"Phil asked me one day if I'd promise you all a front seat at the circus and a ride on the elephant. Well, I'm going to keep my word, I've got a piece of timber about forty miles up the river from here, and on it there's a log cabin and one of the greatest little old fis.h.i.+ng lakes in the country. I'm going to take you all up there for a month of the best sport you ever had."

"Bully for you, dad!" shouted Tod, then turned to Jerry with:

"And while we're there, what say we learn the first principles of Boy Scouting, so that when we get back to Watertown we can organize a patrol of----"

"The Boy Scouts of the Air!" finished Dave and Frank and Jerry in a breath.