Chapter IX: Back to the Canal

"There's only one man down there, mate, so far as I can see," announced Ferral presently. "He's waving a bunch of burning grass on the end of a stick."

"Is he an officer?"

"He's got on a policeman's uniform."

"Then I guess it will be safe for us to go down."

The descent continued, and the Hawk hovered above the place where Graydon was standing.

"Don't bring that fire near the air ship, Graydon!" Matt called. "Put it out and then come alongside and we'll help you into the car."

The officer did as directed, and was soon in the air ship with Matt and Ferral. The young motorist started on again toward the canal.

"It was a big surprise to me to see this air ship," said Graydon. "Harris was scared to death thinking something had happened to it, and to you boys. We rushed out here from South Chicago in an automobile, and----"

"We know all about that, Graydon," interposed Matt.

"You do?" cried Graydon. "Who told you?"

"Harris."

"Now where in the blazes did you see Harris? He halted the automobile in the road and asked me to get out and take a look through the old quarry. When I got back to the road again the car was gone, and so was Harris. I've been at sixes and sevens ever since. Why did Harris pull out and leave me?"

"He didn't go of his own free will, Graydon. He was knocked down and carried in an unconscious condition to a house in La Grange," and Matt briefly explained what had happened.

Graydon's amazement was keen.

"Well, what do you think of that!" he exclaimed. "Here I've been pottering around in the vicinity of that old quarry for two hours, wondering where Harris was, and why he didn't show up. I got the notion that maybe he had seen some one and had given chase, and that perhaps he'd come back. After two hours of waiting and looking, I gave up and started for La Grange. Then I saw the air ship, and now you tell me the automobile has been stolen, and that Harris is scurrying around La Grange, hunting for the machine and for Hector Brady! I suppose I ought to be there with him."

"You might just as well go on with us, Graydon," said Matt. "We're going back to the quarry and Harris is coming there as soon as he finishes his work. You'll probably find him a whole lot quicker if you go with us than if you keep on to La Grange."

"I'm willing enough to go with you," answered Graydon, "because I'm tired out. I've had footwork enough to-night to last me for a week."

"What did you find in the old quarry? Anything?"

"I found a place where somebody had camped--a sort of a den under an overhang of limestone. But there wasn't any one in the quarry."

"That must have been the place where Brady has been hanging out."

"So you captured him and he got away from you! Well, he's about as slippery a crook as you'll find in eleven states."

The two trees by the canal were soon reached, and the Hawk was moored just as she had been the other time. Graydon, after turning over his revolver to Matt, stretched out in the bottom of the car with his rolled-up coat under his head and was quickly snoring.

But there was not to be much sleep for Matt or Ferral that night. It might be, as Harris had said, that "lightning never struck twice in the same place," but the two lads were not taking any chances. Armed with Graydon's revolver they felt equal to any emergency that might confront them, but to close their eyes seemed out of the question. They patrolled the ground in the vicinity of the two trees. This was more as a precaution to keep themselves awake than anything else.

"Too blooming bad we just missed getting Miss Brady away from that outfit," muttered Ferral. "If we'd got to Hooligan's half an hour sooner, we might have rescued the girl."

"We can't tell what would have happened," returned Matt. "Those scoundrels had the automobile--don't forget that--and they didn't stop at Hooligans very long after they got there from the quarry."

"Long enough, anyhow, so that we could have grabbed the machine if we had known about it. Now there's no telling where Pete and Whipple have taken the girl. With that automobile, they may be thirty miles from here, by now."

"It will be easier to find them with the automobile than if they had got away without it. They'll have to keep to the best roads, and Harris can telegraph all over this part of the country. Every automobile will be closely scanned, and if Pete and Whipple get away they'll be a whole lot more clever than I think they are."

"They'll only use the old flugee by night, mate. During the daytime they will hide away somewhere."

"Well, I think the chances are good for the whole party being captured. Helen Brady has done so much for us, though, that I would like to have had a hand in rescuing her."

"I'm tagged onto the same rope, old ship! But I guess it don't make much difference how Helen Brady gets away from Pete and Whipple, just so she _does_ get away. That guff about the memorandum in the Lake Station house, and the buried treasure, was a fine yarn for the marines. I'm a Fiji if that Brady hasn't got a keen imagination."

"I'm taking a whole lot of stock in that yarn myself, Dick."

"Oh, my eye! Say, matey, where's your head? Why, Brady just threw that treasure business into the story to make it more catchy."

"I don't think so. We know that Pete and Whipple lured Helen Brady away. Why should they do it if it wasn't to get hold of that buried loot? Brady's explanation is the only reasonable one, and it rings true, to me."

"Why did he get up and dust if he was playing square with us? Didn't he say he'd give himself up if you'd head the Hawk for La Grange and help rescue the girl? Nice way he's got of giving himself up! Why, he tripped anchor the minute he got a chance, knocked Carl over and took a slant for the open. He's got a good offing by now, and I'm betting we never see him again. According to my notion, he stands a better chance of steering clear of the law than do Pete and Whipple. Brady can give any the rest of his old gang cards and spades when it comes to headwork."

"I don't know why it is, Dick," said Matt, "but somehow I've got a lot of confidence in Brady's doing as he said he would. He's hungry to revenge himself on Pete and Whipple for their attempt to steal the buried plunder, and making the girl help them. Brady, if I know him, will go a long way to get even with a man."

"He's tried jolly hard to get even with you, but you've just naturally boxed the compass all around him."

"Well, he's let up on me now."

"Don't be so cocksure of that, my hearty. He let up on you while he could use you and the Hawk. After he accomplishes what he set out to do, if he ever does, there may be a different story."

"I've got a good deal of confidence in him," insisted Matt. "Everything's quiet around here, Dick," he added, "and you might as well turn in and catch your forty winks. I'll stand guard alone. If anything goes wrong--which I haven't the least idea will be the case--you'll hear this gun begin to talk and can flock to the place where you're needed."

"I guess I will do a caulk, mate, for I'm mighty dozy; but I'll only take the nap on one condition."

"What's that?"

"Why, that you go below yourself after I do my own stretch off the land. I'll wake up in time to give you a chance before sunrise."

"I'll agree," laughed Matt, "providing you wake up."

Ferral selected a spot under one of the trees and spread the canvas shelter Matt had stowed in the car for the protection of the air ship. With his coat for a pillow, and the canvas between him and the ground, he was off to the Land of Nod in record time.

From that on, Matt had a lonely and fruitless vigil. A passenger train went past on the railroad, but that was the only event that came to relieve the monotony of two hours' sentry duty.

At the end of the two hours, when, as Matt judged, it was nearly four o'clock, Ferral stirred himself and arose.

"It's my turn-to, mate," said he. "Give me the revolver and below with you."

"How did you manage to wake up?" queried Matt, as he passed over the weapon.

"Practice, I guess. If a fellow fixes it in his mind that he's going to wake up at a certain time, he can usually do it. Anyhow, that's the case with me. But ease off on your jaw tackle, matey. You're wasting valuable time. We've been through a lot of excitement and you must be tired. Harris and Carl will probably be here before you have the chance to get as much of a snooze as I had."

Matt walked over to the improvised bed under the tree and dropped down. He was hardly flat on his back before he was sound asleep; and it didn't seem to him that he had more than closed his eyes before a yell from Ferral brought him to his feet.

But some time had passed since Matt had laid down. The sun had risen, and it was broad day. There was the roar of an approaching train in Matt's ears, and Ferral was pointing excitedly toward the cars and shouting:

"Look there, mate! What do you think of that? Brady, or I'm a Fiji!"