CHAPTER XXVII

THE LONE FIGURE

“Well, for the love of guns! how did that get there?” asked Bob.

“Landed after it smashed our carburetor,” was Jerry’s reply. “At least that’s my theory.”

“But who shot it at us?” Ned demanded. “Some of those crazy cowboys, I guess, who got so excited when we made flights over their heads.”

“It wasn’t there when we started out this morning,” said Jerry, “for I went over the propeller blades with a fine tooth comb, so to speak. And certainly the carburetor was all right.”

“That’s so,” admitted Ned, scratching his head. “Then----”

“The puffs of smoke down below us!” interrupted Bob. “Was it someone shooting a revolver at us, Jerry?”

“Not a revolver, Bob. That wouldn’t carry as high as we were. This is a bullet from a high-powered rifle, and it’s lucky it smashed the carburetor instead of us.”

“But who in the world could have fired it?” went on Ned. “If it was the professor, firing in the air signaling for help, he surely would have seen us and been a bit more careful.”

“It wasn’t the professor,” declared Jerry. “He hasn’t a rifle, and I doubt if he would know how to fire one if he had.”

“Then you think----” began Bob.

“I think, Chunky, that we’d better look about a bit,” was Jerry’s reply. “There may be some traces here that we could pick up which would help us solve the cattle mystery.”

“Good idea!” said Ned. “Let’s look about.”

They scurried about the site of their first camp, but it was not so easy to read any signs there as they had hoped.

“But there was certainly someone here firing at us from shelter, while we were up in the air,” declared Ned. “Those puffs of smoke Bob and I saw were from a rifle, and not a campfire.”

“My idea, too,” put in Jerry. “The question is who was shooting at us, why and where is he?”

“Three questions, and three of us to answer ’em,” remarked Bob. “For the first I’ll say it was one of the cattle thieves.”

“Probably,” agreed Jerry. “No one else hostile is in this neighborhood, as far as I know.”

“As for why,” mused Ned, “it must have been because he wanted to disable us, so we couldn’t continue the pursuit.”

“Probably that’s right,” assented Jerry. “And for the third question--where is he?--that’s for us to find out. I don’t imagine though, that he’s anywhere around here now. When he saw us coming down he probably ran away.”

“Or he might be in hiding within ten feet of us, watching us now, and hearing everything we say,” commented Bob, and at his own words he looked half-apprehensively over his shoulder.

The boys stood silent, thinking this last statement over. But as the place about them gave no sign of life they came to the conclusion that the unknown rifleman had made good his escape.

“But just to make sure we’ll have another look around,” suggested Jerry, and they scoured over the fields, penetrated a little way into the wood and looked behind clumps of bushes. No one did they see, however, and then Jerry remarked:

“Well, let’s look after our airship. We haven’t begun to do any real scouting in her yet. This is only the starting point of our search. We ought to cover a good deal of ground before night.”

“If we can go on,” supplemented Ned.

“Oh, there’s no serious damage done,” Jerry said. “We have a spare carburetor.”

“Will that bullet in the propeller weaken it any?” Bob inquired.

“Not in the slightest. The old machine will soon be as good as ever.”

It was not quite so easy to put in a new carburetor as Jerry had thought, however, for the bullet that put out of commission this very necessary part of the motor’s equipment had also smashed a feed pipe.

There was an extra piece in one of the lockers, however, and this was inserted after about an hour’s work. A test of the machine showed that it was again in shape for the duty required of it, and having rolled it to a stretch of level ground the boys prepared to set off once more.

Up and up rose the great bird-like affair of wood, steel and canvas and the deserted camp was soon but a speck below them.

“Now if that fellow takes it into his head to fire again, and smashes our other carburetor, we’re done for,” observed Ned.

“I don’t believe he will,” responded Jerry, and he proved a true prophet. For while the tall lad was at the wheel, Ned and Bob kept a sharp watch down below. There were no more puffs of smoke, and the airship was soon so high up that no ordinary missile could reach it.

“And now what’s your plan?” asked Ned of his tall chum.

“Well, I think we’ll fly over the mountain in a straight line west from the rocky defile, in which the disappearance of the cattle seem to have taken place. I have an idea there may be some way of getting under the mountain, by means of a tunnel, perhaps.”

“It would have to be _some_ tunnel,” observed Ned, for they were flying across the flat mountain top now, and could see that it extended for several miles.

“Well, it might be one made by nature. Probably is, if there’s one in existence,” Jerry said.

On and on they flew, now circling to the right, and again to the left in an endeavor to cover as much ground as possible. But they saw nothing that would lead to a solution of the mystery.

All that day was spent in flying about, peering here and there through the powerful glasses, the airship moving along at a low elevation so the boys might make more careful observations.

“Well, we don’t seem to have done much the first day,” observed Bob, as they descended to a level, sandy plain as night settled down. “All we can do is to get something to eat and go to bed.”

“There’s another day to-morrow,” remarked Ned, “so don’t eat up everything to-night.”

“No danger!” exclaimed Jerry. “Chunky brought along enough for a small army.”

“Well, I’m as hungry as half an army myself!” laughed the stout lad.

“Going to stand guard to-night?” Ned asked, as they proceeded to make the cabin of the earth-fast airship snug and comfortable.

“Well, I don’t know but that it would be a good idea,” agreed Jerry, after a moment of thought. “Of course we’re a good way from where that fellow shot at us, but that isn’t saying he hasn’t some confederates in this place. Yes, it wouldn’t be a bad plan to sit the night out in three watches. They won’t be such very long ones. I’ll take first, as I can always sleep better in the rear end of the night.”

“I wake up early, so I’ll take last watch,” volunteered Ned.

This gave Bob the middle watch, and he and Ned went to bed about nine o’clock, Jerry making a fire not far from the airship, so the blaze would serve to illuminate a space around the craft.

Somehow Jerry was distinctly nervous as he assumed his watch. There had been strenuous times since he and his chums had come to Square Z ranch, and there had been much to cause them worry. Of course, the disappearance of the professor was the most important. The loss of the cattle was serious, naturally, but both Mr. Baker and Mr. Slade were men of wealth and would not be ruined even if they lost the whole ranch. Still, Jerry and his chums felt an eager desire to solve the mystery. They felt the same excitement and determination as when trying to win a baseball or football championship.

Though Jerry kept eager watch, his vigil was not disturbed save by the approach of timid animals of the night, which made off at the sight of the fire.

Nor were the watches of Bob or Ned fruitful of any results. Ned thought, just as the east was beginning to be light, that he heard a suspicious sound at the rear of the airship. He ran to the place immediately but all he saw was a small deer that was nosing the rudder and licking it, doubtless with the hope that it was coated with salt. The animal sprang away in alarm at the lad’s approach.

“Well, this is getting pretty close to our time limit,” observed Jerry as, after breakfast, they set off through the air once more. “If we don’t have any luck now----”

“It’s give up for ours!” declared Ned with a sigh.

It was toward noon, when they were flying over a small valley, that Bob, looking down through the observation window in the floor of the cabin, cried:

“Look, you fellows!”

Ned sprang forward, and Jerry, at the wheel, leaned to one side to look.

Down below, standing on a big rock, was the solitary figure of a man, and he seemed trying to signal to them.