The pilot juggled with the controls. The nose of the plane tilted downward. The machine dived in a breathless rush.
Then it banked, and the plane circled the airport, dropping steadily downward as though descending an invisible spiral. The flying field seemed to rise up to meet them. The hangars, the other planes, the tiny figures of men on the field, all became visible. There seemed to be an unusually large number of people about, and the pilot turned and shouted something to the boys, but they could not distinguish what he said, because of the roar of the engine.
Finally the plane straightened out, then glided swiftly down toward the field. It struck the ground with a shock, then bounced and bounded on toward the hangars.
There was a big crowd at the airport. People were running down the field toward the plane. By the time the pilot cut off his engine, by the time the propeller stopped turning and the plane came to a stop, a mob had surrounded the machine.
Frank and Joe looked wonderingly at one another.
“Looks like a reception committee!” said the pilot. “The sheriff must have telephoned to Bayport about his prisoners.”
The Hardy boys stood up. They heard shouts:
“There they are!”
“That’s them!”
“Turn around a little—let’s get a picture!”
The Hardy boys and the pilot had a confused impression of half a dozen cameras leveled at them. Flashlight powder began to explode until the whole scene was as bright as day. An enterprising reporter scrambled up over the side of the plane.
“Interview!” he clamored. “Give me the story, boys! What happened?”
The pilot brushed him aside.
“You boys will have your story in a minute,” he promised. “If you’ll all come up to the office we’ll tell you the whole yarn.”
Chief Collig, at the head of a detail of officers, appeared just then and managed to get the crowd under control, so that the pilot and the Hardy boys were able to get out of the plane. Several airport officials ran up. The pilot saluted.
“Had a forced landing near Jasonville, sir,” he reported to one of these officials, an elderly man. “The mail is safe.”
“Good work, Benton,” said the other. “Come up to the office and tell us what happened. We’ve been mighty curious for the past half hour, since we heard about this holdup.”
The Hardy boys never forgot the short journey to the office building of the airport. It had all the aspect of a triumphal procession. Scores of people had invaded the flying field, and the police were kept busy keeping the crowds back. Seemingly, the news of the holdup had spread quickly in Bayport and the flying field suddenly became the Mecca of everyone who could make his way to the airport.
In the office, surrounded by reporters, photographers, police officers, and airport officials, Benton, the pilot, briefly told his story of the holdup.
“As you know,” he said, “the mail tonight was especially valuable. Cash for a number of payrolls was being sent to one of the Bayport banks from its head office in New York. Somehow, these men must have got wind of it, so they flew out to meet me, tossed a tangle of ropes down on my propeller shaft, then held me up when I crashed. They were just clearing out with the mail bags when these boys appeared on the scene and turned the tables. If it hadn’t been for them, the rascals would have made a clean getaway. Their story is much more interesting than mine.”
Frank and Joe Hardy were then asked to tell the story of their adventures. While the newspapermen scribbled hastily and made frequent dashes to the telephones to inform their city editors of the facts, the boys quietly told how they had decided to follow Ollie Jacobs, how they had learned of the purchase of the airplane, and how they had concealed themselves in the machine and accompanied the rascals in their journeys about the countryside. When they had finished, a veteran post office inspector stepped forward and shook hands with them.
“I hardly need say that your good work will be recognized by the department,” he said. “Your persistence and courage certainly averted a serious robbery, and I am going to recommend that you be suitably rewarded.”
“The only reward we want,” returned Frank, “is to be cleared of the charges against us. You know, we’re out on bail on a charge of robbing the mail several days ago.”
“Why, didn’t you know that you were cleared of that?” exclaimed the inspector. “Your father, Fenton Hardy, came to the airport tonight, shortly before the news of the holdup was reported, and arrested two mechanics. It seems they had been in touch with Ducroy and his companions by telephone, tipping them off to the time this money shipment was expected. When your father took them away they confessed that they had helped Ducroy manage the other two thefts here, and that Ducroy had deliberately planted evidence against you boys.”
“Charges against them have been withdrawn,” broke in Chief Collig abruptly. “The Hardy boys have been cleared of all suspicion. So far as I’m concerned, I never believed them guilty in the first place.”
XXIV
Vindicated
The Hardy boys had cleared up the great airport mystery, which had been a nine days’ wonder in Bayport.
Newspapers carried many columns describing the adventures of the boys in trailing the airmail thieves and the entire city united in praising them for their good work. But the boys felt that no praise could equal the delight they felt when they knew they had been cleared of the unjust charges that had been laid against them.
“I knew it! I knew it all along!” declared Hurd Applegate, as he sat in Fenton Hardy’s study the next morning. “It was absolutely ridiculous to arrest them in the first place. Wasn’t it, Elroy?”
Elroy Jefferson, who had come to the Hardy home with Mr. Applegate, nodded affirmatively.
“Quite ridiculous,” he agreed. “I am indeed glad that
