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The man was overwhelmingly grateful and apologized again for the trouble he had caused. A hasty examination showed that he had not damaged the craft any by his pulling and hauling, and a little later he had disappeared in the darkness with his “mule critters,” and soon the rumble of his wagon over the road, that was hardly more than a trail, came fainter and fainter to the ears of the aviators.

“Well, that sure was a scare!” exclaimed Dave, when quiet was once more restored.

“I should say yes!” agreed Hiram. “The idea of trying to cart off the Albatross!”

“Well, his explanation was natural,” said the professor. “These mountaineers, in this lonely region, scarcely ever see money, I guess. But now, boys, get to bed. We’ve got lots to do to-morrow.”

Everyone again retired after the lights had again been turned low, and Dave and Hiram were soon asleep again. It was two hours after daylight when Grimshaw routed them out of their berths.

“Come, get up here,” he ordered; “if you don’t want to miss breakfast.”

“I certainly don’t,” announced the active Hiram. “I’m hungry as a bear.”

“Well, there’s a capital meal waiting for you,” observed the old aeronaut.

The boys found this true as they came in at second table in the cabin. They hurried through with the meal, for outside on the ground Mr. King and the others were assembled. From their actions the young aviator concluded that some active discussion was in progress.

Exit from the cabin was made through a trap door and a balancing ladder.

“Hurrah!” piped Hiram, as he reached the ground. “Here’s a chance to stretch our legs and breathe some fresh air.”

“Let’s see what is going on with the others,” suggested Dave, and they approached the group made up of Professor Leblance, Mr. King, Grimshaw and Mr. Dale.

“We are evidently in some remote spot,” the Frenchman was saying. “All the better that, for we shall have no troublesome visitors. My men can attend to the balloonet and some other needful repairs while we send for that quicksilver.”

“Which means the location of the nearest town?” submitted the airman. “There was so much excitement last night I forgot to ask that old mountaineer. But we must locate a store.”

“Exactly.”

“And that may be somewhat difficult.”

“Perhaps,” agreed the Frenchman, “but once down in the valley yonder it is to be supposed there are some tokens of civilization.”

“Who is to go?” inquired Mr. Dale.

“I think you had better entrust the matter to me, Professor,” said the aviator. “Here, let one of the boys – you, Dashaway – go with me.”

“I shall be glad,” said Dave, eagerly.

“Hold on,” broke in Hiram; “give me a show too; won’t you, Mr. King?”

The aviator took a brief look at the earnest, beseeching face of the willing and accommodating young aeronaut, and smiled indulgently.

“Well, you two make a hardy, useful team, so make it so, if you like.”

Arrangements were made for the departure at once. It was understood that the Albatross would remain at its present landing place until the exploring party returned with the quicksilver, even if they had to consume considerable time in locating a town.

“I think we can make it and return by nightfall,” said the airman. “Don’t worry, though, if we are longer away.”

“No,” spoke the professor. “We can’t leave till we get that quicksilver, no matter how long it takes.”

A plentiful lunch, a compass, and a gun were gotten ready by the cabin man. Then, waving a cheery adieu to their friends, the airman and the boys started down the mountain side.

CHAPTER XIV
LOST

“It’s no use, Dave.”

“Why not?”

“We’ve shouted ourselves hoarse, and in this still air and the way we have kept up the hollering, anyone could hear us five miles away, it seems to me.”

“Then there is only one conclusion to arrive at,” observed the young aviator quite seriously.

“What’s that, Dave?”

“We are lost.”

“I reckon you’re right,” assented Hiram ruefully, dropping to the ground and reclining on the grass.

His companion followed his example. It was six o’clock in the afternoon, the sun was descending, and at the end of ten hours spent in persistent search of a town or settlement, this had been the result of their hard travel and laborious investigations.

The trio who had left the Albatross had kept together until about noon. Not a wagon track or even a footpath had they come across, much less a human habitation. The landscape seemed as wild and untenanted as if it were a primeval wilderness.

“I hardly know what to do,” said the old aviator, about the middle of the afternoon, as they concluded a rest and a lunch.

“Yes, we may go on for miles and miles and not run across a human being,” returned Hiram, who was tired out.

“I have half a mind to return to the Albatross while we are pretty sure to find our way,” remarked Mr. King; “and advise that we make an air flight for civilized territory.”

“We might try as far as the other side of that big hill,” suggested Dave, pointing to a lofty eminence in the distance.

“That may not be a bad idea,” replied Mr. King. “See here, we’ll make a circuit. It can’t be over a few miles. I’ll trail the valley this way; you boys take the other direction, and we’ll meet on the other side of the hill.”

“That’s a good arrangement,” declared Hiram; and the divided journey was begun.

It proved a very unwise experiment, the way things turned out. The circuit was not so easy to follow as it had seemed. Pursuing a ravine and its branches, at the end of three hours the boys found themselves inextricably mixed up as to location or direction, with so many hills in view that they could not tell which was the one they had had in view when they separated from the aviator.

“Yes,” observed Hiram now, looking rather hopelessly about them; “we’re lost, that’s sure.”

“Then the thing is to find ourselves,” said Dave, cheerily.

“Worst of all, Mr. King has got all the lunch,” mourned Hiram. “See here, Dave, when are you going to make a start from here?”

“Why, when we get rested we’ll press right forward and get to a town or back to the Albatross.”

“That’s easily said; but not done.”

“Well, we can try; can’t we?”

“I suppose so.”

Hiram was out of sorts. His gloom somewhat abated, however, and finally walking on, they came across a big patch of wild raspberries. When, a little later, Dave discovered a pecan tree, Hiram quite recovered his spirits.

“I hardly hope to rejoin Mr. King,” said Dave. “I think I can keep the general direction of the Albatross in view. What I say is to brace up and keep steadily ahead for a few hours, and see if we don’t come across something encouraging. There’s a full moon, you know. Besides, at night we could make out lights at a distance. You see, even if we fail, we can surely get back to the airship.”

“Not if we lose our reckoning.”

“Yes, even then,” persisted Dave.

“How can we?”

“Why, I heard Professor Leblance tell Mr. King that if we did not return by midnight, he would have the big searchlight on the Albatross at work.”

“That’s grand!” cried Hiram, bracing up magically. “We can see the searchlight for a good many miles, you know.”

The wayfarers threaded several tortuous valleys. They reasoned that if they could get out of the mountains they were sure to come upon some little farm. It was near dusk when Hiram, who was a little in advance of Dave, shouted suddenly:

“Here’s something!”

“What is it?” questioned our hero, hurrying up to where he stood.

His companion held up what looked like a broken tree branch, only the bark had been peeled off from it, and one end had evidently been fashioned into a handle with a pocket knife.

“Someone driving live stock has been here – lately, too,” declared Hiram, inspecting the whip. “It broke, and he threw it away. Hold on. I was long enough on a farm to trail a cattle track, if there’s one around here. Yes, there is,” and the speaker’s tone rose in volume as he bent over and, running along, inspected the ground keenly.

“Found it?” asked the young aviator, pressing close after his comrade.

“Yes. It’s plain enough, now. Come on, Dave; we’re in luck, sure.”

They could now make out a beaten track, and tell the irregularities in the ground made by the trampling of many feet. The track finally ended at the edge of a small stream.

“Here’s where they forded the brook,” explained Hiram. “We’ll take off our shoes and stockings and wade over.”

This they did. The opposite bank gained, they saw through a fringe of bushes what looked like a level field. They could hear occasional bleatings.

“Oh, say, we’re all right now,” declared the sanguine Hiram.

They hurried on their shoes, eager to pursue their investigations.

“The sheep are over yonder,” said Hiram, pointing to a corner of the field. “We’re surely near some farm now. I shouldn’t wonder if we found some one guarding the sheep, too, for – hear that!”

It was the echo of distant yelping and barking to which Hiram called attention.

“Wolves?” asked Dave, guessing quickly.

“That’s what; I know them. Saw lots of them when I was out West. Come ahead. We’re going to find somebody right away, I’m sure.”

The boys now noticed a little knoll. The bleating sounds seemed to echo from behind it. As they started up the incline, Hiram grabbed his companion in some affright and dismay, and both fell back startled.

A sudden flash split the air. It started a sweep in a perfect circle, like a revolving searchlight. Its bright rays sent out a glare a hundred yards from its base. Then, the circle complete, as suddenly it died out.

“Now what do you think of that?” gasped the bewildered Hiram. “Worse, and more of it!”

Bang!

From the same spot, just as abruptly, some gun or cannon belched out a sheet of flame, followed by a report that awoke the echoes for miles in every direction.

Facing a mystery they could not explain, the two young aviators stood staring mutely towards the spot from which flash and report had so unaccountably come.

CHAPTER XV
“THE TERRIBLE MACGUFFINS”

“Now what do you think of that?” challenged Hiram, after a long spell of wondering silence.

“I don’t think it was intended for us,” responded the young aviator.

“Why not?”

“Because that revolving light, or whatever it is, flashed in every direction, and that firearm wasn’t aimed towards us.”

“That’s so,” agreed Hiram. “But what was it done for at all?”

“We had better try and find out,” suggested the young aviator.

The boys waited for some little time, expecting a renewal of the strange manifestations, but it did not come. Then Dave led the way, creeping up the incline. As they reached the top of the knoll, they paused and looked about them. Sheltered in a kind of a dip of the ground, they could make out half a hundred sheep huddled together. No human being was visible.

“There’s the contrivance that flashed and fired,” announced Hiram, pointing to a small raised platform at the edge of the knoll.

“I guess it is,” assented the young aviator; “go slow, Hiram. No need to run any risks.”

Neither could refrain from satisfying his curiosity as to the purpose of the device near to them. As they neared it, proceeding cautiously, the bright rays of the moon, just rising, showed clear outlines of the platform and the object upon it.

“Hark – listen!” ordered Dave, suddenly.

As they waited a sharp tick – tick, regular and prolonged, struck their hearing.

“It’s a clock,” declared Hiram. “Look there – seven or eight gun barrels. And wires running to that box. There’s clock works in it. See, the light is still burning, but shut in with a cover.”

“That’s so,” nodded Dave, surprised and still puzzled.

“Oh, say!” cried Hiram, suddenly, “I’ve guessed out the whole scheme.”

“Have you?”

“I think so.”

“What is it?” asked the young aviator.

“Why, this is a contrivance for scaring away wolves. It’s mighty cute, and it must be a smart fellow who got it up. Don’t you see, probably every hour the light flashes and one of those firearms goes off. That would scare wolves good and right.”

“I believe you have solved the problem,” said Dave.

He was certain of it as they made a closer inspection of the queer contrivance. Some backwood genius had spent time and some money in rigging up a wolf-scarer that kept up an alarm and illumination through the night, serving as a protection for the sheepfold.

“Of course there’s a house somewhere near,” said Hiram, as they started from the spot.

“Yes, look there – a light!” cried Dave.

What looked like a candle or lamp in a window showed at a little distance. The young adventurers hurried along with a good deal of satisfaction.

They finally reached a roomy log cabin with a barn behind it. As they passed around the house they were unable to discover anybody about the premises. They knocked and then hammered at the front door. There was no response, and Hiram shouted, but no one appeared. Walking around the house, they could see through the uncurtained windows into every room.

“There’s no one in the house, it seems,” said the young aviator.

“Probably gone to some neighbor’s,” suggested Hiram.

“What is that?” suddenly exclaimed Dave.

Towards the southeast a growing glare showed in the sky. It increased in brightness each moment.

“It’s a fire!” declared Dave.

“I think so, too. Let’s run for it,” spoke Hiram.

They had gone perhaps a quarter of a mile when shots and then shouts rang out on the still night air.

“Someone is running this way,” said Dave.

Against the radiance of the mingled fire glow and the moonlight the boys saw a woman hurriedly crossing a clear space beyond the trees. She held a baby in her arms. A little girl she clasped by the hand. The baby was crying, and the woman, with many a fearful glance back of her, was sobbing audibly.

She came directly towards the boys. Dave stepped forward in her path. The woman drew back with a shriek of alarm.

“Don’t be frightened,” said Dave.

“You do not belong to the raiders?” the woman faltered, all in a tremble.

“What raiders?” asked Hiram.

“The MacGuffins – the terrible MacGuffins!” almost wailed the woman.

“Who are they?”

“Don’t you know?” asked the woman, incredulously.

“We are strangers here, madam,” explained the young airman. “What is the fire and what is the trouble?”

“All our men are away – hiding from the officers down at Brambly Fork,” said the woman. “The MacGuffins have made a raid and are burning us all out! They may kill us if they catch us. Oh, sirs, help me get our little ones in hiding,” she pleaded.

“To your home, do you mean?” inquired Dave.

“Oh, no, no,” dissented the woman instantly. “That is the worst place in the world to go to just now. They will burn our house next.”

“They may not harm you,” suggested Dave.

“Yes, they will. My husband is the man they hate the most. It’s an old quarrel between the MacGuffins and our people. They will harm you, too, if they catch you.”

“Why should they?” asked Hiram.

“Because no stranger is ever allowed in these Carolina mountains. They are all moonshiners, and will take you for detectives. They shot two suspicious characters only a few days ago.”

“H’m,” remarked Hiram under his breath. “We’re in a nice country!”

The young aviator comprehended the situation at once. He had read and heard of these North Carolina outlaws and their family feuds, sometimes running through half a dozen generations.

“How can we help you?” he said to the woman.

“It isn’t safe for us anywhere around here,” she declared. “I must get to my husband.”

“At Brambly Fork, you mean?”

“Yes, that’s where he is, and his crowd.”

“Is it far from here?”

“About fifteen miles. He ought to know about the MacGuffins, so as to drive them away before they steal our cattle and crops. I can manage to get along with the baby, but the little girl is ready to drop down from tiredness. See, oh, hide! hide! They are coming this way!”

Among the trees beyond the clearing the boys could see men with torches and armed with rifles coming in their direction.

“They are going to fire our house next!” cried the woman, bursting into tears.

“I am afraid it would be foolish for us to try and prevent them,” remarked Dave. “They are armed and in a dangerous mood.”

“You would simply risk your lives.”

The young aviator snatched up the little girl in his arms.

“Help the lady, Hiram,” he directed, “and follow me.”

Dave led the way to a thick copse. The woman told the little girl to keep perfectly quiet. In a few minutes the men they had seen passed by without discovering them.

“I must get to my husband at once,” said the woman, eagerly, as soon as the horde of raiders was out of sight and hearing.

“You can’t go alone,” observed Dave. “Here, we will go with you. Take turns at carrying the little girl, Hiram.”

The woman sobbed out her heartfelt gratitude. Then Dave questioned her as to the direction of Brambly Fork, and all were soon on the way.

“This isn’t looking for Mr. King, Dave,” suggested Hiram, after awhile.

“Mr. King will take care of himself, Hiram,” replied the young aviator.

“Yes, but neither is this looking for a town where we might get that quicksilver.”

“It’s on the way to it, isn’t it? When we get to the place where this woman’s husband is, some of the crowd can direct us to the nearest settlement, that is sure.”

It was pretty hard traveling, after a day of heavy tramping. The forlorn condition of the woman, however, appealed to both the boys.

“We are very near Brambly Fork now,” spoke the woman at the end of four hours, during which time they had rested frequently. “Another turn in the valley and we will be there.”

“Sure enough!” cried Hiram with animation.

They had come upon a spot well shut in on three sides with trees. A big campfire was burning, and near it were gathered a dozen or more men. Their interest was centered on a man who stood with his arms bound behind him.

“Why,” cried Dave, “it’s Mr. King!”

CHAPTER XVI
IN FRIENDLY HANDS

The young aviator did not delay for a single instant. So precipitately did he start for the group about the tree, that he fairly knocked Hiram off his footing.

“The mischief!” gasped the latter, righting himself and staring aghast at the scene a little distance ahead of them.

“Stop! stop!” shouted Dave at the top of his voice, as he dashed across the open stretch, and momentarily came nearer and nearer to the men who surrounded the airmen.

Dave had a right to be urgent, for two men had seized hold of Mr. King as if to handle him roughly.

Three rifles were aimed at Dave as he fearlessly ran up to the group. One of the party, evidently the leader, stared at our hero as he came to a halt, with a suspicious and threatening scowl.

“Hello,” he challenged, “another one? Why, strangers are getting thick as bees in swarming time.”

“It’s another detective,” growled a man by his side.

Dave faced the fierce-visaged, reckless-mannered mob, all alive with anxiety and excitement.

“You must not harm that man,” he declared, dauntlessly.

“Know him, do you?” inquired the leader, with a sinister look.

“I should say I did. There’s some mistake.”

“Who is he?”

“He is Mr. Robert King, the great aviator.”

“H’m that’s what he said, but we don’t believe him,” retorted the leader. “Look at that badge on him.”

“Why, that is a trophy from an aero club,” explained Dave. “Read what it says, and you’ll see that I am telling the truth.”

“Say, sonny,” observed the man, with a derisive laugh, “there ain’t any schoolhouses in this district, and none of us know how to read. Now then, who are you, and where did you come from?”

“I am in the same line as Mr. King,” replied Dave; “and I came from the spot where our airship landed.”

“How did you find us?”

“Oh, yes,” said Dave, quickly. “I ran across the MacGuffins. They were making a raid, and – ”

If the young aviator had thrown a firebrand among the group he could not have caused more excitement. At the mention of that dread name, “the MacGuffins,” it seemed as though the men before him uttered a fearful roar of hatred and rage. The leader sprang forward and grasped Dave’s arm.

“Don’t you fool me!” he shouted. “Where did you run across the MacGuffins?”

“About fifteen miles north of here. They were burning houses, and – ”

Dave was interrupted by a cry. It proceeded from the woman he and Hiram had helped. She appeared now upon the scene carrying her babe, and Hiram following with the little girl in his arms.

“Jared!” cried the woman, and then Dave knew that the leader of the outlaw band was her husband. The man stared at her in bewilderment.

“Nance,” he spoke in a husky voice, “what does it mean, you being here?”

“Oh, Jared, the MacGuffins!” she wailed. “They have burned us out! If it wasn’t for these two brave boys, we might all have been killed! They hid us and helped me get here with the children.”

“You did this?” spoke the man in a choked-up tone, turning to the young aviator. “And that fellow is your friend?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Set him free,” ordered the man with a wave of his hand towards Mr. King. “As to you, young man, you’ve made some friends, let me tell you.”

Dave and Hiram hurried eagerly to the spot where two of the band began immediately to liberate Mr. King, who had looked worn and worried. A glad smile of relief now covered his face.

“You came just in the nick of time,” he told his two young friends.

“It looks so,” said Hiram, seriously.

“There’s a bad nest of them,” cautioned the airman. “I never met such stubborn, unreasonable beings. They seem to have two objects in life – to fight each other and dodge revenue officers.”

“Regular outlaws, aren’t they?” queried Hiram.

“Yes, and with little idea of the value of human life.”

The band grouped together about the woman, who was reciting the incidents of the raid of the MacGuffins. Wild shouts and threats followed her story. The party split up, and half of them ran to a thicket, to reappear with horses.

At a word from the leader they set off in the direction the refugees had just come from. Then the man approached the airman and his companions.

“We’re rough fellows, maybe,” he said, “but we stick like glue to a friend. You two young fellows saved my Nance and the babies. There isn’t much we fellows wouldn’t do for you in return.”

“Well, you can probably help us out a good deal if you want to,” replied Dave promptly.

“Just name how, son.”

“Mr. King has told you how we are balloonists. We need some quicksilver, and the three of us had started out to locate some town where we could get the article.”

“Quicksilver, eh?” repeated the outlaw, as though dubious and puzzled. “Where would you be likely to get it now?”

“Most hardware or drug stores keep it,” explained Dave.

“Nothing else you need?”

“No, only to return to our balloon when we get the quicksilver.”

“Hi!” shouted the man, beckoning to two of his men. “Mount and make a quick run for Forestville. How much quicksilver do you want?”

“It comes in iron tubes,” explained the airman. “One will answer. If they keep it in some other form, about thirty ounces.”

“Get back soon as you can,” the outlaw ordered his messengers. “If the places are shut, shoot up the town and get some action on the case.”

The speaker turned and proceeded to where a tent stood. In a little while he reappeared to say to his guests that they must be hungry and to follow him.

Seated on rude home-made camp stools, the three friends enjoyed a meal of corn pone, sweet potatoes and wild turkey, all cooked to a turn. Then their host threw some blankets on the ground outside. He invited them to be seated, and for over an hour asked question after question regarding their wonderful airship and the great world beyond the wilderness of which he knew so little.

“We’re perfectly safe to sleep here,” remarked Mr. King, as the man left them finally.

“More than safe,” declared Dave. “These people would protect us with their lives, the way they feel about us.”

The wayfarers were pretty well tired out. All three were soon asleep. It must have been two hours later when Dave felt himself roughly shaken. The outlaw leader and two others were standing near, staring up into the sky in an awed, puzzled way.

“What’s that?” asked the outlaw leader of the young aviator. “It’s strange to us, and I thought you’d know.”

Across the sky in the direction of the airship a broad sweeping pencil of light swept the heavens from zenith to horizon, and back again.

“Ah, that?” said Dave; “it’s the great searchlight of the Albatross.”