CHAPTER XVII.
THE TWISTED SPARK PLUG.
"Gracious, are we in for more trouble?"
Jimsy looked blankly at Roy; but the latter only laughed at his chum's serious face.
Somehow, viewed in the bright light of early day, Lish Kelly's threats did not appear nearly as formidable as they had over night.
"Nonsense; what harm can he do us anyhow? We're going to go into this race, and we're going to win too. Just watch us."
"Going to tell the girls anything about Kelly and his remarks?"
"No; what good would that do? It would only scare them."
"That's so, too; but just the same I didn't like the look of Kelly's face when he came through."
"He looked to me like a bulldog that had swallowed a baby's boot and didn't like the taste of the blacking on it," laughed Roy.
At this juncture the girls came into the room. All were radiant and smiling in anticipation of the day's sport.
"Well, we've been and gone and done it," announced Roy.
"Done what?" demanded Peggy.
"Signed the paperrr-r-r-s," was the rejoinder, rendered with great dramatic effect.
He waved the duplicate entry blanks above his head.
"Let's see them," begged Jess.
"All right. Look what I've let us in for!"
"Why—why—good gracious, Roy, you've got us down for everything," gasped Peggy.
"That's right, all the way across from soup to nuts," struck in the slangy Jimsy.
They all laughed. The color rose in the girls' faces.
"If only we can win some of them," cried Jess.
"Well, the machines are all in fine shape. If we don't win it will be because the other fellows have better machines."
"Where are the aviation grounds?" inquired Bess.
"At the City Park, about a mile out of town to the south. We can get to it by looking down at the trolley tracks," said Roy, who had consulted the mayor on this point.
"Then you are going to fly out there?" asked Miss Prescott, who was also by this time a party to the conference.
"Of course; and, by the way, we ought to be getting out there pretty soon; I want to be looking over the grounds and selecting the best places for landing and so on," said Roy.
"Well, please don't get into any more scrapes," sighed Miss Prescott; "what with gipsies, firebugs and rams, our trip has been quite exciting enough for me."
The boys exchanged glances. If the man Kelly tried to carry out his threats things might be more exciting yet, they thought. But both kept their knowledge to themselves.
It was arranged that Miss Prescott should motor out to the City Park. Soon thereafter the young aviators placed finishing touches on their machines, and while a curious crowd gathered they took to the air.
"Looks just like a flock of pigeons," said a man in the crowd, as they climbed skyward quite closely bunched.
"It sure does," agreed his companion, "but them things is prettier than any flock of pigeons I ever see."
And this opinion was echoed by many of the throng. At any rate everyone who saw the aëroplanes start made up his or her mind to pay a visit to the park and see some more extended flights, so that Mayor Hanks' prediction was verified.
As the young aviators hovered above City Park for a short space of time, and then dropped earthward, a veritable sensation was created. From a row of "hangars" mechanicians and aviators came running. One or two aviators who were aloft practicing "stunts," dropped swiftly to earth. Lish Kelly's troupe was a large one, consisting of five men and one woman flyer, the wife of Carlos Le Roy, a Cuban aviator.
Outside the grounds several of the frugal individuals who desired to see the flights without paying admission also watched as the quintette of strange aëroplanes dropped to earth.
One by one the graceful craft of the air settled to the ground, and the young aviators alighted. Members of the Arrangement Committee hastened to their sides, shaking hands warmly and thanking them for their interest in the coming contests.
The Kelly aviators gazed curiously, some of them resentfully, at the newcomers. They had all the professional's antipathy and jealousy of amateur performers. As the Arrangement Committee bustled off after telling our friends to make themselves perfectly at home, Pepita Le Roy came up to them. She was a handsome woman, in a foreign way, with large, dark eyes and an abundance of raven black hair. She was rather flashily dressed and walked with a sort of swagger that in a vague way reminded Peggy of "Carmen."
"So you are zee girl aviators," she remarked, as she came up.
"Yes; I guess that's what they call us," rejoined Peggy; "we enjoy flying and have done a lot of it."
"So! I have read your names in zee papers."
"Oh, those awful papers!" cried Jess, who hated publicity; "they are always printing things about us."
"What! You do not like it?"
"Oh, no! You see, we only fly for fun. Not as a business and—"
Peggy stopped short. She felt she had committed a grave breach of tactfulness. It was not the thing, she felt, to boast to a professional woman flyer of their standing as amateurs.
Nor was the Cuban woman slow to take umbrage at what she considered an insult. Her eyes flashed indignantly as she regarded the fair-haired, slender girl before her.
"So you fly only for fun," she said vehemently; "very well, you have all zee fun you want before to-day is ovaire."
Without another word she walked off, with the swinging walk of her race.
The girls looked at each other with a sort of amused dismay.
"Goodness, Peggy; you should be more careful," cried Bess; "you've hurt her feelings dreadfully."
"I'm sure I didn't mean to," declared Peggy remorsefully. "I—I had no idea that she would flare up like that."
"Well, after all, it doesn't matter much," soothed Jess, pouring oil on the troubled waters, so to speak. "I'm glad the boys didn't hear it though."
"So am I. See, they're busy on Roy's machine," exclaimed Bess.
"Yes; the lower left wing is rather warped," explained Peggy; "they are fixing it."
"Wonder who that man is who is monkeying with the Red Dragon?" said Peggy, the next instant. "I mean that horrid looking man in the check suit."
"I don't know. See, he has a monkey wrench in his hand, too," exclaimed Bess.
Almost simultaneously the boys looked round from their work on the biplane and saw the man. It was Lish Kelly. He was bending over the engine and doing something to it with his wrench.
"Hey! What are you doing there?" yelled Roy.
"Just looking at your machine. No harm in that, is there?" demanded Kelly, with a red face.
"None at all, except that we don't want our machines touched. How comes it you have that monkey wrench in your hands if you weren't tampering with the machinery?"
Jimsy spoke in a voice that fairly bubbled over with indignation.
"Don't get sore, kid; I wouldn't harm your old mowing machine. There isn't one of mine but could beat it the fastest day it ever flew."
As he spoke Kelly slouched off. They saw him go up to a group of his aviators and begin talking earnestly to them. Once or twice he motioned with his head in their direction.
"So he does mean mischief, after all," said Roy; "let's take a good look at the Dragon's engine. He may have injured it, although I don't think he'd have had time to hurt it seriously."
They strolled over to the Dragon, with the girls trailing behind.
"Oh!" cried Peggy, as they came up, "look at that spark plug."
"What's the matter with it?" demanded Jimsy,
"Look, it's all bent and twisted out of shape."
"Jove, sis, so it is. Your eyes are as sharp as they are pretty!" cried Roy.
"No compliments, please. Oh, that horrid man!"
"Who is he?" asked Jess. "You appeared to know him."
"Yes, we had some conversation with him this morning," laughed Roy; "but to return to the spark plug; it's a good thing we carry extra ones."
"But we don't!" cried Jimsy, in a dismayed tone.
"What! you had a supply in a locker on your machine."
Jimsy looked confused.
"I've got to make a confession," he said.
"You didn't bring them!" cried Peggy.
"No, the fact is I—I forgot."
Jimsy looked miserably from one to the other. Here was a quandary indeed. It might prove hard to get such a commodity as a spark plug in Millbrook.