Chapter XII

"Let me up!" cried Frank, the veins standing out on his purple forehead as he struggled vainly under Bill's grasp. "You Injun fighter you, give me a white man's chance and I'll fight you square!"

"I don't intend to fight you at all," said Bill. "I don't fight with fellows like you. And I don't intend to let you beat me up. If you promise to sit there in that chair and make a clean breast of it, I will let you up."

"There is nothing to tell," said Frank. "Lee must have put that money and that envelope in my trunk. I don't see what you are going to do about it."

"Thank goodness there was a witness of the way you acted when I found it!" exclaimed Bill. He stood up, and Frank scrambled to his feet. He watched Bill furtively until he glanced aside, then he made a mad lunge toward him. Bill was too quick for him and once more Frank, sobbing with rage, went crashing to the floor.

As Bill stood over him, he glanced at Ernest, who had been an interested observer.

"What are we going to do with him?" he asked.

"This," said Ernest. He pulled a quantity of very strong waxed cord from his pocket. It was some he sometimes had need of in fixing his plane.

With a quick twist he had a loop around Frank's ankles, and then, dragging the resisting boy to his feet, he jammed him down on a chair and proceeded to fasten him neatly to it.

"Now," he said, "what next?"

"Next is to save Lee from Leavenworth," said Bill. "Mother says he will kill himself if ever he gets there. He can't stand the disgrace. If you will stick around and watch this fellow, I will go down and see about sending the telegram."

"You had better stay here, and I will go," offered Ernest. "It is too late for you underclass fellows to be out in the corridor, and I can go down and rush the message. I have a pull with the telephone boy. Write your message."

"Don't do it; you will ruin me!" cried Frank.

Bill stared. "Ruin you; ruin you? What do you mean?"

"Why, you know what this will mean to me if it gets back on the Post. What's Lee, anyhow? Just a half-breed private! Let him take his medicine!"

Bill paled and Ernest made an involuntary motion as though he was going to strike the coward down. Bill controlled himself with an effort.

"He is worth more--his little _finger_ is worth more than your whole body. He is the finest chap I know. And the next time you call him half-breed I will lick you. He is justly proud of the American Indian blood in him. Oh, you aren't worth talking to!"

He scribbled something on a pad and gave it to Ernest, who disappeared with it. Instead of returning in a few minutes, it was almost an hour before he stuck his head in the door and beckoned Bill into the corridor.

The boys had not spoken during his absence.

"Wires all down," he said briefly. "The storm has destroyed all lines of communication. And they say there are wash-outs all along the lines of railroads. Also we are under quarantine. Hope you don't mind what I did. I went to the principal and told him the whole thing, and offered to take you and Frank out to Sill in my plane. I am perfectly capable of making a flight ten times that long, and as you know I am a licensed pilot. Unless a new storm comes up, the air is perfect for flying, and we can start at daybreak. What do you say?"

"Do you mean to tell me old Prexy will let us go?" demanded Bill.

"Surely! He is a good old chappie when he has to rise to an occasion and I should say this was one. Besides, he wants to get rid of Frank. He says he doesn't want him in the school another day, and if he is here he will put him in close confinement. And this affair really does not come within the school discipline, so the old dear is willing to let you take Frank and that precious envelope back to Sill. And the only way we can make it is by air."

"Oh, it is the greatest luck in the world!" cried Bill. "This is the reason mother let me off my promise. That plane of yours holds three, doesn't it?"

"Easily!" said Ernest.

"Don't say a word to Frank until we are ready to go," Bill suggested.

"Well, you can't leave him trussed up there in that chair all night," said Ernest. "We all need to sleep. I never fly unless I have had a good supper and a good sleep afterwards. It is the only way to keep a clear head and steady nerve."

Between them they lifted Frank, who in sullen silence refused to stand or use his legs, over on one of the beds, and again tied him securely. When they were sure that he could not escape, and yet was able to move sufficiently to keep from being cramped, Bill tumbled into his own bed and Ernest went off in the direction of his own room, stopping on his way to thank the principal for his permission. Then, with a last look at the sky he set his alarm clock, and in a second was fast asleep.

Before Bill realized that he had really shut his eyes, he felt Ernest shaking him, and rolled over to see Frank, still bound, glaring at him in sullen fury.

"Almost daylight," said Ernest. "I have some breakfast ready over at the Grill. No one is up, so we can bring Frank right along."

"What are you up to?" demanded Frank as Bill commenced to dress, hastily donning his heaviest underclothes. "I am sick of this fooling. You try to take me out of this room and I will yell so I will bring every teacher in the building!"

"Good for you!" said Ernest. "Forewarned is forearmed." He arranged a gag which effectually prevented Frank from making a sound and, loosening his feet, they started toward the door. But scenting punishment, Frank let himself go suddenly limp, and Bill had to put the screws on, as he expressed it, by applying one of the hand holds that Lee had taught him. After that the prisoner walked.

As they silently passed the office the stern face of the principal of the school suddenly appeared. He made a gesture and the three boys stopped. Then for a long minute he looked at Frank.

"Good-bye," he said solemnly. "I pray that you will wake to a realization of what you have done. You have been a thief; you have willingly allowed a good young man to bear punishment for your crime, and you are now about to endanger the lives of two of your mates, who are willing to take the risk in order to save the innocent. If you are mercifully permitted to make good this wicked crime, arouse yourself, Anderson, and resolve to be a different boy." He turned as though he could say no more, and with a warm handclasp for each of the others, closed the door.

"I bet he has been up all night," whispered Ernest.

They found a hot breakfast at the Grill, and just as the pitch darkness gave way to a pale streak of dawn, they cut across the campus and reached the hangar.

As they switched on the lights, Ernest's beautiful plane seemed to sparkle with preparedness. He went over it bolt by bolt, nuts, screws, wires, and wings passing under his careful and critical eye. He looked at and tested the tension of the wires, the swing of the rudder, the looseness of the ailerons. Satisfied at last that everything was perfectly in tune, he turned and gave a critical glance at Frank.

"He is going to freeze," he said. "You go up to the gym and in my locker you will find another coat and safety helmet."

Bill started on a run. It was growing light fast, and it was time they were on their way. Frank suddenly found his tongue.

"You have got to tell me what you are trying to do with me," he said. All the bluster had gone from his voice, and he watched Ernest with worried eyes. "It is not fair the way you are acting. What are you going to do?"

"You may as well know now," said Ernest. "I think myself it is fair to tell you. We are going to fly to Fort Sill and save Lee from the trip to Leavenworth. If we have good luck, we have just about time to make it. That storm last night blew half the telephones down, and we are under such strict quarantine that we couldn't get away from here any other way.

"And if we could there is no time. Of course if we could telegraph, it would fix things all right. But we have got to hurry. Mrs. Sherman writes that your victim will never allow himself to go to Leavenworth. The Indians are proud, you know, and we are making this flight perhaps to save a life. I don't envy you when you get there, young chap!"

"I won't go!" said Frank in a low voice. "If you take me up, I will spill us all out of the plane."

"You can't do it, you know," said Ernest, laughing. "This plane doesn't spill as easily as all that, and if you go to talking like that we will tie you up. I think we will anyway."

Frank came close to his side. "Have a heart, will you?" he said. "I did take that money, and I did pawn my watch in Bill's name, but I will write it all down, if you won't try to take me back."

"More news," said Ernest. "We didn't know about the watch. I think you are badly needed back there at Fort Sill."

He turned to adjust something, dismissing Frank as though he was not there. They could hear Bill trotting rapidly down the campus. A short heavy length of iron pipe lay close to Frank's foot. He stooped, picked it up and made a lunge for Ernest. Ernest turned in time to see the bar descending and threw up his arm. The bar struck it with sickening force and the boy reeled back, both bones in the forearm broken. His right arm dangling loosely at his side, Ernest leaped on his assailant and threw him to the ground as Bill came up.

"Help me!" he panted, his face pale with pain. Once more they bound Anderson, and then put Ernest's arm in rough splints.

"Well, this ends it!" said Bill gloomily. He dropped down on a bench and pressed his face in his hands.

Frank grinned. He was desperate and almost crazy with worry and despair and remorse. He had not meant to hurt Ernest badly; he thought a good crack would disturb him and he would have a chance to coax or wriggle out of the terrible trip before him. He was called to the present and his surroundings by hearing Ernest's voice.

"Ends it? Not at all! We will go right ahead."

"You can't drive with one hand," said Bill sadly.

"_No, but you can and will_," replied Ernest grimly.

"What?" cried Bill.

"He can't drive!" cried Frank. "It will be suicide and murder to let him try. He has never been up in a plane in his life. Don't do it; don't do it, I tell you! Don't you know anything, Bill? You will be killed sure as shooting!"

"I am not afraid," said Bill calmly.

"Well, I am!" cried Frank.

"I would be if I were you," scorned Bill. "If I had stolen one man's reputation and broken another man's arm, I would be a little afraid myself!"

"To say nothing of stealing another boy's name!" cut in Ernest.

"What's that?" asked Bill.

"That's another story," said Ernest. "You can hear that some other time. Hustle into your togs now; I want to get to Sill. My arm hurts."

Flying is getting to be such a widespread sport as well as profession that every device possible is being developed for the safety and welfare of airmen and women. So Bill helped Ernest into a leather hood which extended down over the shoulders, and which was softly and warmly lined with wool fleece. Over this went a helmet with a specially heavy padded top and sides built on a heavy leather form with ear cones, adjustable visors, and flaps. Ernest's leather coat could only be worn on one arm on account of the right one which was tightly bandaged against his breast, but Bill buttoned and tied it together as closely as he could.

He then ordered Frank into a similar outfit, which they found in Jardin's car, and rapidly dressed himself in the same manner. He unlatched the great doors and swung them wide, and together they pushed the plane out onto the field, Frank lying tied in the observer's seat. It seemed cruel to tie him in the face of his fear, but they were afraid he would do something desperate.

"Now just a last word," said Ernest, laying a hand on Bill's shoulder. "You won't lose your nerve, will you, old fellow?"

"Of course not!" said Bill. "Let's get off. I have a hunch that we ought to get along. We don't want to have to follow all the way to Leavenworth."

"All right-o, let's be off!" seconded Ernest. "Take the pilot's seat, and I will help you if it is necessary. Good luck, old dear!"

"Here comes Tom and the other fellow," said Bill. "They can hold us."

He climbed into his seat and Ernest sat beside him, nursing his wounded arm. Tom and his helper, boiling with amazement and curiosity, held the machine and turned it to face the wind.

Bill gave his engine plenty of gas, the propellers whirled faster and faster, and when they reached top speed under Bill's accustomed hand, he gave the signal and the men let go. The plane bounded forward, skipping merrily over the field. Bill balanced on one wheel for a moment, then with a thrill of the heart such as he had never known tilted the elevating plane and felt himself rise in the air.

They were off!