THE AIR CHASE.
One hasty glance told Frank that there could be no mistake. Only too well did he know the construction of that same biplane that had in the near past competed with them for honors in the race for Old Thunder Top's crown.
"You're right, Andy," he said, earnestly; "and it seems to me they're heading for us right now. What do you make them out to be? Can you see who is handling the wheel? Is it Puss Carberry?"
"Yes, I'm dead sure of that; but Frank, there's somebody else with him!"
"Sandy?" asked his chum.
"No, it can't be. There, I had a good look at him, and Frank, he's got a beard! It's a man!" answered Andy, in tense tones.
Frank's first action was to move a lever that would change their course and place the biplane directly behind them. His next was to throw on more speed, so that the faithful little motor started to humming with the old-time rapidity that reminded Andy of the occasion when they put it to its best efforts in order to rush ahead of their rival of the air.
"Then we must guess from that Puss and Sandy have fallen into the hands of the rebels, since there are no government troops up here, the señor said," he observed, presently. "Are they gaining on us now, Andy?"
"I don't think so," replied the one who held the glass, "though Puss seems to be getting a whole lot of speed out of his Gnome engine right now. Reckon he must have overhauled it, or else found some way to put her up another notch."
"How strange to think that our old rivalry is being renewed away down here in this country, thousands of miles from home," remarked Frank, after a while.
"Huh! seems to me there would be something doing if you happened to run across Puss Carberry at the other side of the world," declared Andy.
The race kept up for some time, neither seeming to gain to any appreciable extent. Of course both boys were keyed up to a state of intense nervousness. Passing through the air at this fearful speed fully five hundred feet above the ground was surely enough to excite them. One little accident and they would hardly know enough to give a single shout of horror before the end must rush upon them. And yet Frank appeared as cool as though sitting beside a camp fire, laying out some contemplated air cruise on paper.
Andy was full of complaints.
"Aw, now, whatever do you suppose those measly old insurrectos want to chase us for in this style?" he growled. "We're attending to our private business and not bothering them one little bit. Why don't they leave a fellow alone? Goodness knows we've just got trouble enough on our hands without this."
"I don't know," said Frank, reflectively, "but I reckon they either want our monoplane or else believe we're in the employ of the government, and have been sent up here to spy on their movements. Anyhow, it seems plain that they mean to make a big effort to get us."
"Which they won't, if we know it!" cried Andy. "But see here, Frank, that chap is nervy, all right, going up with Puss and standing all this racket. A tenderfoot is generally rattled even with a slow flight. He seems to be holding out."
"I've been thinking about that," replied his chum. "And Andy, it looks to me as if that fellow must know something about aviation. If I could only glimpse him through the glasses I'd soon tell, for he'd show it by the way he sits there alongside Puss. A new beginner would be hugging the upright for dear life, and showing all the signs of fear."
"Yes, I know, because I did that same," answered Andy, once again raising the binoculars as he twisted his head around.
"How is it?" asked Frank.
"Not much signs of fright about him, as far as I can see," came the ready reply.
"Then make up your mind he's been up in an aeroplane before. Perhaps he's some French or German, who has thrown his fortunes in with the man who wants to sit in the presidential chair at Bogota, and in his own country he must have seen something of aviation. Oh, well, it doesn't make much difference to us. We just have to keep them at a distance and take our chances."
"But Frank—"
"Yes, I know what you're going to say, Andy; that night will soon be coming swooping down on us. That's so, and I'm sorry in one way, for it's going to be a tough old job finding a suitable place to fold our wings on in the darkness. But we're up against it good and hard, you see, and it's what you might call Hobson's choice."
Andy showed more positive signs of anger.
"What business have they got bothering us this way?" he grumbled. "Say, don't you suppose it would be all right for me to try a few shots at 'em with the fine Marlin repeating rifle we're carrying? Perhaps I could give 'em a scare anyhow and make 'em haul off."
"No, I wouldn't think of it," replied Frank, hastily. "You might cause trouble to our own delicately balanced little aeroplane by firing. And then again, what if you brought about an accident and sent them down to the earth like so many stones?"
"But you know those other chaps banged away at us and they didn't bother their heads a cent whether they upset our whole business or not," objected Andy, belligerently.
"Two wrongs never make a right, Andy."
"But when they opened fire on us," the other went on, complainingly, "that constituted a declaration of war, and so you sec, we'd be quite justified in giving 'em back the same kind of medicine."
"You forget that one of those two in the biplane is a former schoolmate of ours and that perhaps he's just being compelled to chase us right now," said Frank.
"Think so, do you?" growled Andy, above the rattle of the exhaust; "well, I'd like to warrant you that Puss Carberry is grinning right now, because of the fright he thinks he's giving us. No, sir, he's only too willing to do anything to upset our plans. I know him pretty well, and I wouldn't put any meanness past that fellow."
Frank in secret did begin to feel more than anxious. The afternoon was almost over and the sun perilously near the western horizon. Too well did he know how rapidly darkness came after the disappearance of the king of day.
He bade Andy pay more attention to the lay of the country ahead of them.
"We're keeping well ahead of the biplane," he observed, "and there's little danger of their overtaking us. But in case they drop out of the race we must try and know something of the chances for a landing ourselves."
"Gee! it looks pretty punk down there!" admitted Andy, after he had carefully turned the glasses forward and down.
"That's what is bothering me," Frank said. "We've sure got to drop, sooner or later, because it would be utterly impossible for us to keep afloat all night. And if there happens to be no opening in that dense forest, how can we land?"
"Listen! as sure as you live they're trying to wing us with a shot!" cried Andy.
"Well, I wouldn't bother about that. The fellow only has a revolver, if I know the sound of one, and he could never reach us at this distance. It tells me that he's got to about the limit and that something is going to change pretty soon, mark my words, Andy."
Of course one of Frank's objects in saying this was to encourage his chum, for he knew that in all probability Andy was getting pretty close to what he himself would call a "blue funk."
Sure enough the reports continued until just six had reached their ears faintly.
"That ends it," observed Frank, complacently.
"And he never touched us," echoed his cousin, evidently with more or less relief.
"Now take a look back and see what they are doing, Andy."
"H'm! still coming right along at top-notch speed," replied the other.
"All right. There's going to be a change soon. Look down, Andy."
"Oh, Frank, what a dandy open space! If only that plagued biplane was in
Guinea, how easy we could spiral down and make a landing there!"
"Yes!" said Frank, "And, mark me, that is just what they intend doing. As for us, we'll have to move along further into the wilderness and hope that another chance will come to let us out before everything is blotted from sight by utter darkness."
"Frank, they've just sighted the open spot!" cried Andy, a few seconds later.
"All right, what did I say?" demanded his cousin.
"They've given up the chase, sure!"
"And are about to drop down to make a landing for the night; is that so?" asked Frank, eagerly, for their own chances were getting poorer with every passing minute and secretly he was more worried than he chose to admit.
"Just what they're doing right now, beginning to spiral down. Puss and his old biplane weren't in it again with our dandy little Bug. There they go, Frank. Don't I wish we had as good a place to grab hold of the old earth!"
"Well," Frank continued, gravely, "turn around and look your prettiest for it, then. Don't let even a half way decent spot go by. Any port in a storm, the sailor says, and that ought to apply to the airship tar just as well. See anything yet, Chum Andy?"
"N-no, can't say that I do," came the reply, as the other eagerly bent his gaze on the tree tops that they were beginning to approach closer, for Frank had turned the lever of the deflecting rudder in order to start the monoplane earthward.
And the more they dropped the lower the sun seemed to get, until part of his glowing disc appeared to touch the horizon.
Already it was growing dusk below them, and the dense foliage of the interlocked branches of the trees seemed to offer an insuperable barrier to a successful landing.