s midday approached, the weather grew warmer. harvey hamilton left his traveling bag at the home of aunt hephzibah akers, since he did not intend to journey far, and it would be easy to go back when necessary. most of the distance between him and the tent on the edge of the lake was a gradual slope downward, through the usual underbrush and around occasional rocks and boulders, but the traveling, on the whole, was not difficult, and he made fair progress. he doffed his outer coat and slung it over an arm as a sort of balance to the field glass suspended by a cord from the opposite shoulder.

he remembered that when he peeped down from his aeroplane he saw no signs of any one near the tent, but if the owners had gone on a tramp as he supposed, some of them had returned during the brief interval. while drawing near along the beach he saw a man a little to one side of the primitive dwelling, where he had started a fire and was evidently preparing the noonday meal. his companion lifted the flap, stooped, and was in[124] the act of passing from sight when harvey caught his first good view of the tent from the ground. a little later the other person came out. this brought him face to face with harvey when about a hundred paces separated them. the back of his companion was toward the caller of whose coming as yet he was not aware.

harvey had noticed that they were attired in modern camping costume, with leggings, gray flannel shirts, and caps instead of hats. a gaudy handkerchief was knotted loosely about the neck and dangled over the shirt front, across which the big red letters “c a & w e s” could be traced, as far as the young men themselves were distinguishable.

the one who confronted harvey looked at him for an instant, and then touched the forefinger of his hand to his cap in military salute. the visitor returned it and pushed on. the second camper heard his footfall and wheeled around.

“how do you do, sir?” he called. “we’re glad to see you.”

they both offered their hands as harvey went forward. he was won by their hospitality and cheeriness of manner. he explained:

“i am harvey hamilton, from mootsport, new jersey, and i have come to the adirondacks on[125] a strange errand in which perhaps you can help me.”

“it will give us pleasure to do so,” replied the one with the briarwood. as he made this answer harvey distinctly saw him wink at his companion, who returned the trivial and yet often significant signal. the young aviator was mystified, for he suspected instinctively that something was back of it.

“we are sophomores at yale, and are up here on a little outing. my name is val hunter, and i am from vicksburg, mississippi. this ugly looking tramp with me is fred wadsworth, from the wilds of western new york. we have a third member who sneaked off with our boat this morning and there’s no saying when we shall see him again.”

“i have a brother who is a sophomore at yale,” said harvey; “and he is or was a short time ago somewhere in the adirondacks. you must know him.”

“what is his front name?”

“dick.”

the two looked at each other and hunter said: “i recall him and there isn’t a more popular fellow in college. he can box, row, play baseball and football, and leads his class in his studies.”

[126]harvey’s heart warmed to the southerner.

“i can’t tell you how glad i am to hear you say that; something of the same nature has come to us at home and father and mother are proud enough, but dick never tells us anything about himself.”

“we tried to get him to go with us on this trip, but a party of seniors dragged him off. he was very sorry to part with us and wouldn’t have done so but for his promise made earlier. we are honored in having his brother with us and beg he will make more than a short call.”

harvey was sure he had never met two finer gentlemen. val hunter was a true specimen of the aristocratic southerner, with his black hair and eyes, olive complexion, now darkened by tan, and his lithe, sinewy limbs. his words were marked by the slight drawl now and then and the suppressed “r” which often mark the speech of those born and reared south of mason and dixon’s line. his companion, wadsworth, from new york, was of stumpy build, with a round ruddy face, also well tanned, light gray eyes and inveterate good-nature, but by no means as comely in looks as hunter. it was evident that they were attached to each other, probably on the principle of like and unlike being drawn together.

in front of the tent and a little to one side, a[127] short decayed log had been rolled. this was useful as well as convenient. when the young men wished to smoke they could use it, if they preferred to sit rather than loll on the bare ground. besides, if they needed a table for their plates when eating, here it was, though an up-ended box served them oftener.

“i was about to prepare dinner,” said hunter, “it being my day for such menial duty, but it is early and we can sit for awhile. have one?”

he handed a package of cigarettes to harvey, who thanked him and shook his head.

“father and dick do the smoking for our family.”

“you’ll be along in time,” replied the other; “cigarettes aren’t good for some folks and i’m one of ’em, which explains why i smoke ’em. you know that’s the basic principle of human nature; the way to make a person do a thing is first to convince him he shouldn’t do it. it shines out in those beautiful lines of shakespeare or milton, i forget which:

‘i ne’er would have been in this condition

but for mother’s prohibition.’”

“that’s clever in its way, because of the profound truth involved,” remarked the new yorker,[128] “but for fine, delicate fancy it does not equal that quatrain:

‘this road is not passable,

it is hardly jackassable,

and you who do travel it

should turn to and gravel it.’”

harvey laughed at the solemn manner in which this nonsense was delivered. nodding toward wadsworth he asked:

“what do those letters mean?”

the other smiled.

“that reminds me of a day when i saw a scorer in the grandstand at the ball grounds ruling off and writing captions on his card. with much twisting of his mouth he scrawled the word ‘ares.’ i asked him what it meant. with a look of pitying scorn he answered: ‘why them’s errors.’ it is with something of the same emotion that i reply to your question: those letters signify ‘champions of the adirondacks and the whole empire state.’”

“if your modesty strikes in,” said harvey, catching the spirit of the moment, “it will be fatal.”

“that’s what we’re afraid of, but wait till you meet the duke.”

“and who is the duke?”

[129]“i beg pardon for not explaining before. his full title is duke de sassy. he really is a poor cracker from florida, who has such a hard time getting through the university that several of us are paying his expenses on the dead quiet.”

“has he much ability?”

it was the southerner who took it upon himself to reply:

“below the average, which makes it all the harder for him. wadsworth and i, out of pity, invited him to go with us on this outing. florida is a mighty poor place in the summer season.”

“or any other season,” amended wadsworth.

“we were glad to do so, but it galls us to fail to see the first spark of gratitude or appreciation on his part. not once has he said so much as ‘thank you’ for all the favors done him.”

“it is hardly fair to refer to his prodigious appetite and i shall not do so further than to say that it has doubled our expenses.”

“i hope you don’t begrudge him his food,” said hunter reprovingly to his friend, whose slur struck him as in poor taste.

“of course not; it’s our food that i dislike to see appropriated by him.”

“i suppose the treat is so rare a one for him,”[130] suggested harvey, “that he cannot help making the most of it.”

“there may be something in that,” replied wadsworth, “but the fellow is absent and it doesn’t seem fair to abuse him when he can’t reply, though what we have just said has been said to his face.”

“how does he take it?”

“grins and eats more than ever. which reminds me that the adirondacks seem to have become a favorite tramping ground for airships. two of them are hovering over and about us.”

“yes,” remarked hunter, “and we saw a rarity to-day. we were fishing when a biplane sailed overhead with two women as passengers.”

“did you recognize the aviator?” asked harvey.

“how should we?”

“it was myself.”

“no!” exclaimed the southerner, and he and his companion stared in astonishment at their caller; “you don’t mean it?”

“it was certainly myself and the two ladies belong to that house up yonder at the head of the lake. i came to this section from new jersey, covering the whole distance in my aeroplane, and i expect to return the same way, but with only one[131] passenger. my machine awaits me at the house of guide ackers.”

thereupon harvey told his story, which it need not be said was listened to with deep interest by his new friends.

“i never heard of anything stranger,” commented hunter; “that crazy inventor whom you call professor morgan has been in these parts for nearly a week. we must help you to get the colored boy away from him.”

“i shall be glad if you can, for from what i have told you he is in imminent peril. you understand that the first necessity is to locate the prison where he holds the poor fellow.”

“by george!” exclaimed wadsworth, slapping his knee; “don’t you remember, val, that the first time we saw the machine sailing overhead there were two persons in it?”

“you are right; we were sitting on this very log with the duke, all three smoking and talking of nothing in particular, when the duke caught sight of the thing well over toward the other side of the lake. he dived into the tent, brought out his binoculars and we all took a squint at it. it was going very fast and the man on the driving seat sat up very straight with his hands on the wheel and his feet down in front.”

[132]“that was the professor,” said harvey.

“we couldn’t make out whether the one sitting beside him was colored or not. he must have fancied we were watching him, for he waved his cap at us and we returned the salute.”

“that was bunk: he always does that. now, how long did you watch the monoplane?”

“as long as it was in sight. it returned later in the day and went back over the same course, but it carried only one person.”

“that confirms the theory i formed some time ago. professor morgan was afraid to have bunk with him at his workshop, because he might change his mind and run away, or could be found more readily by his friends. so he took him to some place out yonder, where he intends he shall stay until he is ready to start on the maddest trip an aviator ever dreamed of. now can you tell me how far the professor went with his machine?”

“i had the glass and was standing right here watching him,” replied wadsworth. “up among those rocks and trees which you see a little to the left and six or eight miles away, the machine seemed to come to a stop and to hang motionless in the air, but that could not be.”

“that is exactly what you saw; the professor has invented what he calls an ‘uplifter,’ which is[133] nothing more than a horizontal propeller under the engine, by which he can hold himself stationary when he wishes.”

“i was so puzzled by the sight that i handed the glass to the duke, who laughed at what he called my fancy. but when he had looked it was his turn to be surprised, for he couldn’t see any aeroplane at all. it had vanished as completely as if it had dived into a hole in the ground. he passed the glass back to me, but i was no more successful than he. then val tried it with the same result.”

“you knew what that meant?” said harvey inquiringly. “there was no mystery about it.”

“i presume the aviator made a landing among the trees.”

“his uplifter enables him to descend where he chooses, for he can come as straight down as a stone falling from the sky. a space a few yards wide will answer and there must be plenty of such spots even in so wild a region as that beyond us.”

“that must be the explanation,” said hunter, “and of course he can make the same kind of start, though we have never seen him do it. we couldn’t afford to wait here until he came back, but have noticed him several times since.”

“hello! that must be the duke!” said wadsworth[134] as the three heard the sound of whistling from the wood on the other side of the tent.

“brace yourself to meet this undesirable citizen,” added hunter, lowering his voice; “try to bear with him, for he needs your charity. he’s a ‘bad egg.’”

the next moment the third member of the little party, still whistling a popular air, came into view from behind the tent and wadsworth, who had risen, said impressively:

“mr. hamilton, permit me to introduce you to the duke de sassy, a general nuisance and—”