<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII<br/> <span class="cheaderfont">WHAT HAPPENED TO NED</span></h2>
<p>Alan Hope reached the Newark factory of the
Universal Transportation Company shortly
before eleven o’clock that night, after an uneventful
trip out via the suburban railroad service.
He found the big plant gloomy and silent, without
a light to show that activity was really going
on within. In response to a prearranged code
of rings on the bell at the great main gates,
he was admitted.</p>
<p>The <em>Ocean Flyer</em> had been wheeled to the
extreme end of the big aviation field where she
might have plenty of room for her initial rise
into the air, and the factory foreman informed
Alan that all was now ready for departure at
any minute.</p>
<p>Ned Napier arrived within ten minutes after
his chum. Although he had sustained no actual
mishap on the way out, it was by sheer luck only
that he escaped the trap which had been laid for
him. He had attended the performance at the
Winter Garden, purposely leaving early. In<span class="pagenum">[63]</span>
the foyer as he went out a stranger in full evening
dress (apparently one of the spectators
finishing his between-acts cigarette) accosted
him with extreme politeness:</p>
<p>“Dear gentleman, your pardon,” said he,
“but are you not Mr. Edward Napier, the
aeronaut?”</p>
<p>“No,” Ned answered him coldly. “My name
is Lloyd Jenkins. I am a traveling shoe
salesman.”</p>
<p>“My mistake, then,” laughed the stranger
lightly. “Just to show that there’s no hard
feelings, won’t you join me in a little drink
down at the bar?”</p>
<p>“No, thank you,” the boy answered, “I
never use intoxicating liquors,” and then, being
already suspicious, brushed on past the stranger
and out into the street.</p>
<p>The usual line of taxicabs lined the whole
curb on both sides of Broadway for a block or
more. As soon as Ned appeared there was a
hoarse-voiced chorus of shouts:</p>
<p>“Taxi! Taxicab, sir? This way, sir!
Taxicab?”</p>
<p>Several of the chauffeurs crowded around Ned,
trying to persuade him to patronize them rather
than their fellows. One driver, muffled deep in<span class="pagenum">[64]</span>
a fur-collared overcoat, even went so far as to
lay his hand on the boy’s arm.</p>
<p>“I have a big, comfortable limousine car
here,” he said. “Same price as those stuffy
little taxis.”</p>
<p>Out of the corner of his eye Ned just then
saw the persistent stranger of the theatre lobby
coming out of the entrance towards him, and,
not being anxious for any further acquaintance,
the boy turned hastily to the chauffeur, saying:</p>
<p>“All right! Your limousine for me!”</p>
<p>“Where to, sir?”</p>
<p>Ned was properly cautious.</p>
<p>“The Grand Central Station,” he answered,
intending then to change to another taxicab
which could double on his tracks and take him
on to the rendezvous in Newark.</p>
<p>The gentleman in evening clothes was hurrying
towards Ned, signaling wildly for him to
wait.</p>
<p>“Drive ahead!” called the boy to his chauffeur,
and plunged into the black, cushioned
depths of the big limousine. Ned kept right on
going through, however, tore open the door on the
opposite side, and was plunged headlong to the
pavement by the sudden rush of the machine as
it fairly leaped into high speed. There in the<span class="pagenum">[65]</span>
gloom of the car he had vaguely observed the
uneasy stir of a man hidden beneath the heaped-up
rugs in the corner.</p>
<p>The boy raced across the street, dodging
whizzing motors and heedless of angrily-honking
horns, sprang inside the nearest taxicab and
yelled to the driver:</p>
<p>“Give her all the juice you can! Five dollars
extra if you can get me to Brooklyn Bridge
within twenty-five minutes!”</p>
<p>“I’ll do my darnedest,” the chauffeur, a grizzled
man of fifty, assured him.</p>
<p>They were off in a jiffy, amid a grating of
gear-shifts and thunderous explosions of the
opened exhaust. The motor began to whine as
the gas was fed more and more rapidly; the
white glare of Broadway slipped past the cab
windows in a dull blur. Traffic policemen’s
whistles were merely unheeded incidentals of
the mad race.</p>
<p>Peering back through the little window in the
rear of the machine, Ned saw at least two other
automobiles join in the pursuit from the front
of the theatre. The big limousine was one of
them. The stranger in evening clothes and
another man were craning their necks out of the
other.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[66]</span></p>
<p>“Turn over onto Fifth Avenue and double
up and down some of the side streets as fast
as you can,” called Ned through the speaking
tube to his chauffeur. “Never mind about
Brooklyn Bridge. There are two machines
behind that I want to shake off our trail.”</p>
<p>“All right, boss,” replied the chauffeur.
“You just leave it to Barney O’Dorgan to lose
any other chasing taxi in this old town.”</p>
<p>From then on it became a game of hide-and-go-seek.
Finally away over on the East Side,
it looked as if the pursuers had been shaken off.
No sign of them had been apparent for at least
half an hour, and Ned was just congratulating
himself, when the car turned a corner, and right
there, at a standstill under the arc-light, in the
center of the otherwise deserted street, stood
the big limousine, with the three men arguing
violently beside it.</p>
<p>Chauffeur Barney O’Dorgan caught sight of it
as soon as Ned did. Simultaneously the trio
recognized their lost quarry and started towards
it at a run. There was neither time nor space
for Barney O’Dorgan to turn his car about, so,
as cool as you please, he simply threw his gear
lever as far as it would go, flooded the cylinders
with gas, and the taxicab began to race backwards<span class="pagenum">[67]</span>
at as furious a pace as it had previously
gone forward.</p>
<p>Seeing their prey escaping, all three of the
pursuers jerked revolvers from their coats and
opened fire. Two bullets shattered the windshield
in front of intrepid Barney’s face;
another tore its vicious way through the wooden
body of the cab and imbedded itself with a dull
thud in the back wall not a foot from Ned’s
head. All of the other shots went wild. Two
blocks down this side street and the cursing
pursuers were left more than half of that
distance behind. Then chauffeur Barney
reversed his gears, turned the machine about,
and sped on his way, with Ned exulting behind
him.</p>
<p>“Barney, you’re a peach, and you won’t ever
regret the way you’ve stuck by me to-night,”
Ned called gratefully.</p>
<p>“Oh, that’s all right,” the Irishman made
answer. “I knew by your looks that you
weren’t a crook, and certainly I wouldn’t let
that gang of high-binders nab you. Where to
now, sir?”</p>
<p>The driver certainly had proved himself
trustworthy, so Ned decided to tell him his true
destination.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[68]</span></p>
<p>“Have you gasoline enough left to drive me
to the plant of the Universal Transportation
Company in Newark?” he asked.</p>
<p>“Plenty of gas,” grinned Barney, “but I’m
not so sure about the air in my tires. Wait until
I look at them.”</p>
<p>The tires proved hard and sound, however.
Once more Barney took the wheel, and from
there on the ride to the rendezvous was uneventful.
Ned presented the chauffeur with thirty
dollars as a reward for his fidelity.</p>
<p>“That was a mighty close shave of yours,
Ned,” said Alan, after he had heard the story,
“but where can Buck Stewart be? It’s already
past the time we agreed upon. Do you suppose
they could have caught him?”</p>
<p>“Not yet, my boys,” cried a hearty voice
behind them, and there stood the reporter, his
clothes rumpled, his hat dented out of shape
and with pockets a-bulge with notebooks.
“There are only two parts of me missing—my
camera and cane, and I had to leave them in
other hands without stopping to argue about
it.”</p>
<p>Then Buck told the story of his thrilling night’s
experiences and mutual congratulations followed.</p>
<p>“Well, I guess that we’ve given them all the<span class="pagenum">[69]</span>
slip at last,” said Alan, “and since it’s away
past the hour we fixed for starting, let’s take
our places aboard the <em>Flyer</em> and be off. We
haven’t any too much time to lose, you know.”</p>
<p>“Right-o!” echoed Buck and Ned.</p>
<p>So the trio made their way to where the huge
airship stood ready. They swung up the ladder
into the main port. Ned took his position in
the pilot room; Buck in the engine room. Alan
made a hasty survey of the vessel, poking
around here and there with a powerful hand-searchlight
to see that all was as it should be.
Their hearts beat high with excitement, which
likewise agitated the little group of factory
mechanics who had gathered to see them off.
Just as Ned was about to signal Bob for their
start, there came a tremendous battering upon
the great barred doors of the factory.</p>
<p>“Open and admit us!” roared an authoritative,
bull-like voice. “Let no man leave here
before we enter—in the name of the United
States of America!”</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum">[70]</span></p>
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