engine that would be suitable for use in air craft and that would excel anything heretofore known. How well he and his comrades had succeeded we shall presently learn. Just now the three lads were hastening to New York to meet at the club rooms of the Black Bear Patrol their chum Ned Nestor, who had summoned them by telegraph from their stopping place on Long Island. For purposes of greater seclusion during their experiments a hangar had been constructed on some vacant property owned by[Pg 15] Jack Bosworth's father. In addition to being out of the regular line of travel the place afforded the further advantage of being within easy reach of a railroad as well as being near the beach of Long Island Sound. Here Ned and his friends had worked industriously for several weeks constructing an aeroplane along lines conceived by the boys themselves. [Pg 15] On this particular day Jimmie, Jack and Harry had been making the final adjustments on the frame and planes of the new air craft when a message had come over a "pony" wire from the nearby railroad station. Wonderingly, but unhesitatingly the boys had at once dropped their tasks and, at a suggestion from Jack, had chosen to use their motorcycles rather than wait for the next train. A watchman whose services in the past had been invaluable had been left in charge of the hangar and its precious contents. Their start had been without incident, and it was not until they approached the village a few miles from the hangar that they experienced any difficulty. Apparently the run would be a quick one. At the village, however, Jack's mount had,[Pg 16] indeed, developed a "hot box" which effectually prevented operating the machine. [Pg 16] In spite of Jimmie's threat to tow Jack's disabled machine at a rapid pace he was using a great deal of care and was running slowly. The boys had not proceeded far when Jack called out: "Cut across lots, Jimmie! Go through the old foundry yards. It'll save nearly two blocks of travel!" Jimmie's only reply was to nod his head. At the next street intersection he steered his motorcycle toward a foot path which led diagonally across a vacant lot formerly used by a foundry. A thick screen of shrubbery and bushes growing near the walk hid the lot from the view of anyone on the street. Not until they had passed through the opening in the bushes did the
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