CHAPTER XVIII.
IN SEARCH OF A NEW PLUG.
It was while they were still discussing the situation that the automobile with Jake at the wheel and Miss Prescott and The Wren in the tonneau, drove into the grounds. What a difference there was in the child since her benefactors had fitted her out! She looked like a dainty, ethereal little princess instead of the ragged little waif that had been rescued from the gipsy camp.
But the minds of our young friends were now intent on different matters. Time pressed. The altitude flight, in which Jimsy had planned to take part, was to be the first thing on the program. If anything was to be done about reequipping the Dragon it must be done quickly.
"Tell you what," said Roy suddenly, "we'll get into the car and drive back to town. It won't take long and maybe we can dig up an extra one some place."
"If we don't I'm out of it for keeps," groaned Jimsy; "oh, that Kelly. I'd like to punch his head."
He doubled up his fists aggressively; but, after all, what chance had he to prove that Kelly had actually damaged the plug. If confronted the man would have probably denied all knowledge of it. Nobody had actually seen him do it, so that positive proof was out of the question. No, they must repair the damage as best they could.
But Roy determined to have the machines closely guarded. The situation was explained to Miss Prescott, and while she and her small protégé took seats in the grand stand Jake was detailed to guard the aëroplanes. This done, the boys got into the machine and prepared to start for town. But the girls interfered.
"Aren't you going to take us along, you impolite youths!" cried Bess.
"Oh, certainly, your company is always charming," returned Jimsy, with a low bow.
"Of course it is, but you wouldn't have asked us to come if we had not invited ourselves," declared Peggy vehemently.
"How can you say so? Our lives would be a dry desert without the girl aviators to liven things up," declared Jimsy.
"Jimsy Bancroft, if you are going to get poetical you'll leave this car," cried Jess.
"That's just it," declared Jimsy, "girls can cry their eyes out over romantic heroes, but when a regular fellow starts to get 'mushy' they go up in the air."
Amidst the chorus of protestations aroused by this ungallant speech Roy started the car. Swiftly it sped out of the grounds; but not so swiftly that the keen eyes of Lish Kelly did not see it.
He called Herman Le Roy, the Cuban aviator, to him.
"Le Roy, you are not in the altitude contest," he said, "hop in my car with me and we'll follow those kids. They're up to something."
The Cuban looked at him and smiled, showing two rows of white teeth under his small, dapperly curled mustache.
"I think, Señor Kelly, you have been up to something yourself."
"Well, you know what I told you. We want that five-hundred-dollar prize, Carlos, and by the looks of things if we don't do something those kids are likely to get it."
"They have fine machines," agreed the other.
"Yes; and they are equipped with a balancing device that makes them much more reliable than ours."
"A balancing device!" exclaimed the Cuban, as the two men got into the car, a small yellow runabout of racy appearance.
"That's what I said, and it's a good one, too. I read an account of it in an aviation paper; but the description was too sketchy for me to see how the thing was worked."
"Those boys must be wonders."
"I'm afraid they are. That's why we've got to be careful of them. But I've got a plan to fix them, the whole lot of them."
"What is it?"
"I'll tell you as we go along."
As the car rolled past the group of aëroplanes with Jake faithfully standing guard over them, Kelly hailed him in a suave voice.
"Any idea where the young folks have gone?"
Jake, who had no idea that Kelly had a sinister motive in asking the question, replied readily enough.
"Yes, they've gone into Millbrook to get another spark plug. Something happened to one of the plugs of that red machine yonder."
"All right. Thanks."
Kelly drove on.
"Do you know what happened to that plug, Carlos?" he asked, as they reached the open road and bowled forward at a good speed.
"I've got a pretty good guess. It was not altogether an accident, eh?"
"An accident, well, it was, in a sense. I happened to be near that machine with a monkey wrench and in some way was careless enough to let it put that plug out of business."
Both men laughed heartily, as if Kelly's rascally act had been the most amusing thing in the world.
"You are a genius," declared Le Roy.
"Well, I reckon I know a thing or two," was the modest response; "besides, I need that money."
"But what is your plan?"
"I'll tell you as we go along. Drive fast, but don't keep so close to that other car that they can get sight of us."
"Not much fear of that. They had a long start of us and are out of sight now."
"So much the better. It doesn't interfere with my plans a bit, provided they take the same road back."
"What do you mean to do?"
"Are you good with a shovel?" was the cryptic reply.
"I don't understand you, I must say."
"You will later on. We'll drive up to that farmhouse yonder."
"Yes, and what then?"
"We'll borrow two shovels."
"Two shovels!"
"That's what I said."
"But what on earth have two shovels to do with stopping a bunch of kids from entering in an aëroplane race?"
"Carlos, your brain is dull to-day."
"It would take a wizard to understand what you intend to do."
"Well, you will see later on. Drive in this gate. That's it, and now for the shovels."