Part 2 (2/2)

”Oh, well!” laughed Frank, as his cousin wheeled his bike out to the front gate, where he could mount better, ”it makes mighty little difference, because, from what I've seen of Shea, I imagine he sleeps on his post. I'm glad we didn't let him inside, because, like all Irishmen, he is fond of his pipe and might have set fire to the shed. It's dangerous smoking where there's a lot of gasoline about.”

”Of course we've got that Puss Carberry and his mean crony, Sandy Hollingshead, to consider. They tried to injure our machine once and might again, especially after what happened today,” said Andy, throwing one leg over his saddle and standing there a minute.

”Oh, I guess not, Andy. They understand that we're keeping tabs of that hangar, with its precious contents. Besides, they've got their hands full of other matters, if what Puss said about that big trip to the Amazon country is true.”

The other sighed.

”I only wish I was as sure of going down there as Puss seems to be,” he observed. ”I don't know how it is, but something queer seems to be drawing me that way. Day and night I have pictures rising in my mind. I've read every sc.r.a.p concerning the Isthmus and northern coast of South America, until I guess I'm as well posted on such things as one who had been there.”

”Yes,” said Frank, softly, ”and I'm afraid you let your mind dwell too much on that subject, old chum. It's more than a year now since your father disappeared. And the chances of your ever finding what became of him are like searching for a lost diamond in the sand of the seash.o.r.e. It's affecting your mind, Andy. You look all f.a.gged out. I wish you could cheer up and be something like your old self.”

But the other only shook his head sadly.

”I don't believe I ever can, Frank, until I've had my chance to go down there and make a good try to find all that is left of my poor father. Just as you say, it seems almost silly to think that I could ever succeed, but no matter, I've got it arranged in my mind and the colonel is coming around slowly.”

”Well,” Frank hastened to declare, ”you know if it ever does get to the point that you do go down to make that search, I'm with you. My father would never throw any obstacle in the way, I'm dead sure. And Andy, of course we'd take our aeroplane along. Think how many trips we could make in her over country that no one could ever penetrate on foot.”

Andy was too full for further words. He simply turned and squeezed the hand of his cousin; but the look of affection which he gave Frank told what was in his mind just then.

Frank watched him go spinning along the road and then with a sigh turned into the house.

The day had been replete with excitement for him. First there was the keenly contested game with their rivals across the lake and a tie in the ninth inning, which gave the Bloomsbury boys a chance to win out in the tenth. His pitching had held the enemy safe, and in their half of the inning Frank had made the hit that brought the game to a conclusion. As a rule the home club took the last chance at the bat, but the Cranford manager had chosen differently on this occasion, for some reason of his own, and with disastrous results.

Then, on the way home, had come that little diversion aboard the launch, when his old enemy, Puss Carberry, in attempting to strike him, had miscalculated and gone plunging into the lake, himself being unable to swim.

Frank had nothing to regret in connection with his leap after the struggling lad and his subsequent saving of Puss. True, the latter chose to crush down the natural spirit of grat.i.tude that should have made him accept the hand Frank offered later. But Frank felt that he could afford to smile at such an exhibition of a small nature.

At the supper table his father and Janet, his sister, just home from boarding school a couple of weeks back, plied him with questions concerning the game. Of course, the girl had been present and had seen her brother carry off the honors on the diamond; but there were lots of things she wanted explained.

And before Frank knew it he was asked point blank what had happened on the way across the lake, for Janet had been aboard another boat, it seemed.

”Marjorie Lee told me she heard that you jumped overboard to save some one, she didn't just know who?” was what Janet said, and the good doctor p.r.i.c.ked up his ears as he looked inquiringly toward the boy of whom he was so proud.

Frank turned red and then laughed.

”Oh, pshaw!” he said. ”I had hoped that would be kept quiet. But some of the fellows like to talk too much.”

”Who was it you jumped over after? They said you held him up until the boat got around--that he could not swim a stroke, and must surely have drowned only for your prompt action. It couldn't have been Cousin Andy, because he can swim nearly as well as you. Tell us, Frank,” Janet persisted.

So Frank found himself compelled to relate the whole circ.u.mstance. In his usual generous manner he tried to gloss over the conduct of Puss and spoke as though the other had tumbled overboard during a little boyish roughhouse business; but Janet knew of the enmity between the pair, and she could read between the lines.

Frank spent a couple of hours after supper in poring over a book Andy had loaned him. And it might easily be a.s.sumed that it had to do with the birds, animals, fauna and inhabitants of that great country lying north of the equator, down in Central and South America.

It was about nine o'clock when his father called to him. The doctor had just come in from a few last visits and looked anxious.

”Frank, I'm in a peck of trouble,” he said, with a whimsical smile, ”and I wish you could help me out, though I dislike putting you to so much trouble.”

<script>