Whether secret springs were put into operation by Mrs. Martin that
afternoon or not, nevertheless Hal was able to join the party going to
the airport early the next morning. It was a beautiful morning. It had
stopped raining, and the sun, coming out strong and bright, had dried
everything so thoroughly that only an occasional puddle here and there
on the road showed that it had rained at all. The drive to the port was
pleasant, too; the port being about a mile out of town, and at least
five miles from the Martin home.
When they arrived, the day's program was in full sway. A huge
tri-motored plane was loading passengers for a cross-country trip. As
the three approached the port, they saw the great plane rise into the
air and take off exactly on schedule. Smaller planes were flying about
above the airport, and on the ground mechanics were working over several
planes that needed overhauling. Captain Bill wanted to go first to the
administration building, a large white brick structure, modern as any
office building in appearance. He wanted to see the head of the airport,
an old friend of his, and make the final arrangements for the care of
his plane when it came in.
As they were about to enter the building, a tall, heavy-set man passed
them, on his way out. Captain Bill started, and half turned. "Well, if
that didn't look like--" he began, then turned and went on into the
building. "Looked like an old flying buddy of mine. But of course, it
couldn't be. Old Hank never was that fat. Never had an ounce of fat on
him. All skin and bone. But you never can tell, eh, boys?"
"You'll be getting there yourself, some day, be careful," laughed Bob.
John Headlund, delighted to see Captain Bill, jumped up from his desk,
and pumped his hands up and own. "If it isn't the Captain! Man, it's
great to see you again!" Headlund and Bill had flown together in France,
and although they had kept in touch with each other a few years after
they had returned to America, the press of business had kept them apart,
and they had not seen each other for years. Captain Bill presented the
boys.
"They're going to bring new business for you, Headlund," said Bill.
"Here are two of America's future flyers."
The boys grinned.
Headlund, after wishing them success, turned again to Bill. "Do you see
any of the old boys?" he asked.
"Pat McDermott's my partner," said Bill. "He's flying the old boat in
this afternoon sometime."
"He is! That's great! And quite a coincidence, too. Do you know who was
here--left just before you came in?"
"Not Hank Brown!" shouted Bill. "By golly, I thought I recognized that
face! Old Hank! What was he doing here?"
"He's got a ship down here in one of our hangars. It's a beauty--a four
passenger cabin plane, with the pilot's seat up front--a beautiful job.
Listen, Hank's gone down to the hangar now to look it over. Maybe you
can catch him down there. It's Avenue B, the last hangar in line."
"Great. I'd like to see Hank. Last time I saw him he was in an English
hospital, eating porridge and not liking it at all. Who would have
thought that the old skinny marink would have put on all that poundage?
Old Hank fat! And flying in a cabin plane. Come on, fellows, we've got
to go down there and see him." He turned to Headlund. "I'm going to be
in town all summer, Heady, and I guess you'll be seeing plenty of me.
What street did you say? Avenue B?"
Captain Bill and the boys hurried out, found the right road, and walked
along it until they came to the last hangar. A beautiful plane, black
and aluminum, stood outside. But as they approached, there was nobody to
be seen.
"Ahoy, there!" shouted Bill. "Anybody here know Hank Brown?"
Hank himself appeared from the other side of the plane, where he had
been conferring with a mechanic. "I'm Henry Brown," he said, peering
from behind gold-rimmed glasses at Bill and the boys. His face
registered no sign of recognition at first. Then suddenly it lighted up,
he rushed forward, and gripped Captain Bill's hand in his, slapping him
heartily on the back with the other. "Well, Bill! You old sock! Where on
earth did you come from? What are you doing here? Where have you been?"
Bill, delighted to see his old buddy, laughed at him, and poked him in
his now well-padded ribs. "One question at a time, Hank. What are you
doing here? And how come you've got this grand ship?" asked Bill.
"I asked you first," laughed Hank.
They spent the next ten minutes telling each other just what they had
been doing since their last meeting. They spared the details, but each
was satisfied with the other's story. Hank had done well as the manager
and later as president of his father's steel plant. Prosperity had
ironed out the wrinkles that had always twinkled around his steely grey
eyes, and contentment had added inches to his waistline, but he was
still the same generous, fun-loving Hank that the boys had known in
France.
"Listen," said Hank. "Come on in and try the plane. See how comfortable
it is. Say, this is some different from the old rattletraps we used to
fly, isn't it?"
"But we had some good thrills in them, didn't we," said Bill. This
meeting with Hank was bringing back memories that had not stirred in him
for many years.
"Let's get in here where we can talk in comfort," said Hank.
They mounted a little step that the mechanic set for them, and entered
the side door of the plane. The inside was amazingly luxurious. Along
both sides were upholstered seats, covered with multi-colored cushions.
There were built-in fixtures, and everything to make for the greatest
ease in traveling. The pilot's seat could be partitioned off by a glass
sliding door up front.
The three men sat down on the seats at the side of the cabin. "Gee,
they're soft," said Bob. "I could ride all day on these." He jumped up
and down a little.
"Remember your manners," said Bill.
Bob stopped jumping and blushed. "Oh, I forgot," he said. He had really
forgotten that Hank Brown was an important man, a millionaire. But Hank
only laughed.
"How would you people like to take the plane up on its last ride this
year?" he asked.
"The last ride?" said Bill. "Why the last?"
"Well, I'm putting her away," said Hank. "That's what I was talking to
the mechanic and Headlund about. I was going to spend my summer up in my
log cabin in Canada, fishing, and all that. But my wife wants to go to
Europe instead. She's going to take the two girls over to France and
leave them there in school. That would mean she'd have to come back all
alone. I've been intending to go back to take a look around ever since
I've been back in America, so I thought I'd take the opportunity of
getting over there now with her. I wouldn't take the plane. I won't need
a big ship like this. If I want to fly I can pick up a little French or
German bus. So I'm putting old Lizzie in the hangar. Seems a shame. But
how would you like to go up now? Would you like to try her out?" he
asked Bill. "Would I?" said Bill. He slid into the pilot's seat, and
looked over the instrument board, to familiarize himself with the
instruments with which the plane was equipped. Then he turned back to
the boys. "Want to go up?"
Bob was almost beside himself with excitement. "Take her up, Bill go
on," he squealed. "Sure we want to go up. Go ahead, Bill."
Hal said nothing. His face was pale. Bill thought that it would be best
to ignore him, and just take it for granted that he wanted to go up,
too. And Hal, although he was by this time frightened to death, would
not admit it. He decided to risk the going up rather than say that he
was afraid.
The mechanic taxied the plane out into the open and took away the steps.
Bill pressed the starter, and the great propeller began to move. Slowly
the ship rolled over the ground, gradually gaming momentum. Finally it
rose into the air. Bill handled the huge ship as though it were a toy.
Higher and higher it rose. Bob, looking out of the window, saw the
building of the airport whizzing by below them, then disappear into a
whirling mass. Were they going? Were they standing still? Bob couldn't
tell.
"How high are we?" he shouted at the top of his voice to Hank.
"About 5,000 feet," judged Hank. He was looking over at Hal rather
anxiously. He thought that maybe the boy was going to be sick. But Hal
manfully hung on, and said nothing.
"We seem to be standing still," shouted Bob.
"We're going, all right. Your uncle is a great one for speed!" shouted
back Hank.
The plane was banking now for a turn. They were going back. In a short
while Bill had brought the plane down once more into the airport.
"Well, how did you like it?" he said, turning around in his pilot's
seat.
"Great!" said Bob.
But Hal was just a little sick. He said nothing, and waited for the
world to settle down again.
"You sure handle the ship like you used to in the old days," said Hank
admiringly to Bill.
"She's a great ship," said Bill, modestly.
Hank had an idea. "Say," he said impulsively, "how would you like to fly
her while I'm in Europe?"
"Gee, Hank, I really don't think"--began Bill. He thought, the same old
Hank, always generous, always impulsive.
But Hank was going on with his plan. "Listen, I won't take 'no' for an
answer. You fly my plane. And you can fly it up to the Canadian cabin if
you want to. Then a perfectly swell vacation plan won't be entirely
thrown away. How about it? The cabin is all ready to move into. They've
been fixing it up for me. What do you say? Are you game?"
"Game?" said Bill. "Gee, I'm crazy about the idea. But I don't see why
you should do this for me."
Hank was embarrassed. "You've been pretty decent to me in other times,
remember that, Bill, old boy," he said.
"Forget it," said Bill.
Hank turned to the boys. "Bill here shot down a Boche when the Boche was
all but stepping on my tail. Those were the days, eh, Bill?"
"You bet," said Bill. "We sure were glad to get back alive. Remember old
Lufbery? Raoul of the Lafayette Escadrille? There was a boy who could
shoot them down. Six out of seven in one day. Not bad flying, that. They
used to get pretty close to Raoul themselves. He'd come in with his
clothes ripped with bullets, but ready to go right out again with the
next patrol. Then one day he got his, and there wasn't a man there that
wouldn't have given everything he had to save him, either. He'd gone up
after a German that nobody seemed able to down. Lufbery climbed up to
get above him, and dove. But something went wrong with his plane--God
knows what, and those who were watching from the ground saw it burst
into flame. Then they saw him stand on the edge of the cockpit and jump.
It was horrible. But it was the only way for Lufbery to die--with his
plane. He wanted it that way."
Then Hank said, "And Bill Thaw! There was another flying fool. Bill was
great fun--always laughing and joking, just as if his next flight might
not be his last. Remember what he did to those three German planes when
they got fresh with him, Bill?" He turned to the boys. "Thaw," he
explained, "was coming back from his regular patrol, when he suddenly
came face to face with three German planes. One of them maneuvered to
his left, the second to his right, and the third dove below him to fire
up. Well, Bill had to think fast, and he did. He side-slipped until he
was directly over the plane below him, and fired down. One gone. Then he
pulled himself out of a steep dive, and went after the second plane. A
quick swoop, and a steep bank, a rapid burst of fire, and the second
German went down in a burning nose dive.
"From then on it was nip and tuck, and each man for himself, dog eat
dog. It was a pretty even battle. The German was plucky, and ripped into
Thaw for all he was worth. But one lucky turn, one accurate shot, and
Thaw had him. Down went his plane. Thaw, his plane in ribbons, his
clothes bullet-riddled, limped home, stepped out of his plane with a
smile, and a joke on his lips."
"Golly," said Bob, "that must have been great fun. I wish I'd been
there."
"What would we have done with a baby in swaddling clothes?" laughed
Bill.
"Aw," said Bob, "you know I mean if I was old enough."
Hank was looking into the distance, with the far-away look that meant
another story was coming on, and Bob stopped talking.
Finally Hank said, "Remember Luke and Wehner? What a team! You never saw
two men so different in your life. Frank Luke talked a lot--not always
the most modest fellow in the world, either, and made a great to-do
about everything he did. But he sure did plenty of damage to the
Germans. Joe Wehner was quiet, modest, never talked very much, and never
about himself. But still they were always together. Came to be known as
'The Luke and Wehner Duo.'
"They worked together, too. Went out on the same patrol and always stuck
together. Luke's specialty was shooting down Drachens. Those were the
German observation balloons that they sent up behind their lines to
observe what was going on in the American lines. Of course, the
information they got caused plenty of harm, and anybody who shot down a
Drachen was doing a lot of good. But the things were expensive and
useful, and the Germans sent them up with plenty of protection. There
was always a swarm of planes flying around them and ready to light into
any stranger that came near.
"Luke and Wehner used to take care of that. Wehner would fly above Luke,
looking out for any plane that might come to attack him. If one hove in
sight, Wehner would go for him and engage him while Luke flew on and
shot down the balloon. Balloon after balloon went down. The Germans were
getting wary.
"One day when Luke and Wehner were on their way to see what they could
do about three Drachens that were watching the American lines, they met
up with a formation of Fokkers. Wehner dived into the uneven battle.
Luke flew on, and shot down one, then the other bag. But the gallant
Wehner had fought his last fight. One of the Fokkers downed him. Luke,
who saw what had happened to his pal, left the remaining balloon and
furiously charged the Fokkers. He fought like mad, zooming, diving,
spurting fire into those German planes. Two of them hurtled to the
ground. The others fled. Luke started for home. On his way he engaged
and downed another enemy plane. It was a record that on any other day he
would have boasted about. But not that day. His pal had been killed, and
Luke was for once silent and speechless.
"Of course, he didn't give up balloon breaking. He added up a goodly
store. But one day he got his, like so many of them. He'd sent three
Drachens down in flames that day, when his own plane was so badly
crippled, and he was so badly wounded that he was forced to land. He
wouldn't let them take him, though, and he died fighting. When a band of
German soldiers approached him, he pulled out his gun and shot six of
them before he fell dead."
It was Bill's turn. "Of course you boys have heard of Eddie
Rickenbacker. There was an ace for you. If it was speed and trick flying
that you wanted, Eddie was the man to give it to you. He had a bag of
tricks that would get any pursuit plane off his tail. But he didn't
always use them. He didn't have 26 planes to his credit for nothing.
Eddie was a great ace and a great scout."
Hank interrupted. "Here we go gassing again like two old fogies. I feel
like my own grandfather sitting on the front porch and discussing the
battle of Bull Run. We are getting old, aren't we, Bill? These
youngsters ought to be glad that they didn't have to fly those old buses
that we used, though. The new planes are great to fly. You two are going
to have a grand time. I'd rather fly than travel any other way. But I
don't think that it would be quite the thing to suggest to my wife now
that I would rather fly to Europe with her than take the boat. So old
Hank will be a land animal this time. Or rather, a water animal, instead
of a bird."
"A sort of--fish?" laughed Bill.
"Shut up, you," said Hank. "Now, listen, how about that offer of my
cabin and my plane for your vacation? It'll be a grand trip, and I
guarantee that you'll like the cabin on the mountain. Nobody around for
miles, except Jake, who takes care of the place for me. In fact, there's
no town for a hundred miles around. About the only practical way of
getting there is by plane. Just think, old man, all of that beauty and
solitude going begging. You can get right back to nature there, live a
wild life, or have all the conveniences of home, whichever you chose.
We've got the place all fixed up. It's a real man's place, and you'll
love it. And I'd like to see somebody who'd appreciate it have it this
summer. And I know you would."
Bill looked at Hank, who was talking so earnestly, with a puzzled look.
"Listen, Hank," he said, "you aren't trying to persuade me to go up
there as a favor to you, are you? Because if you are, you're crazy. It's
certainly not you who should be doing the begging. We ought to be down
on our hands and knees begging you for the place. The only reason I
hesitate at all is because I think it's too much you're doing for us."
Hank snorted. "Then you're going to take the place."
Bill looked at him fondly, seeing through the strange marks that time
had left on this man, the young, awkward boy whom he had befriended in
France, when he had been just a young fellow himself, but not so green
as the other. Then he said, "What do you say we leave it up to the
boys?" He turned to them. "What do you say, Bob? How does a vacation up
in the mountains sound to you?"
Bob, his eyes shining, could hardly answer. He hadn't wanted to show too
much eagerness before because he had remembered his manners just in
time, and was watching Bill to see how they should respond to Hank
Brown's generous offer. But now that he saw that Bill was favorably
disposed, he breathed, "Oh, gee, I think that it would be great! Just
great! Let's go, Bill."
Hank was amused and pleased by this enthusiasm.
The Captain turned to Hal. "How about you?"
Hal, who had forgotten his misery during the recital of the exciting
stories of war aces, and was once more fired with ambition, now that he
was safely on the ground, was almost as enthusiastic. "But," he said as
an afterthought, "I don't know whether I could go, of course. My
mother--" his voice trailed off.
Bill reached over and grasped Hank's hand. "We'll take it, old scout.
Don't know how to thank you."
"Don't," said Hank. "I'm glad you're going to go. All you have to do is
to wire to Jake when you're coming. He lights bonfires to mark the
landing field, and there you are. I'm going to be in town for two weeks,
so you can come up any time to make arrangements. O.K.? Now I've got to
go. I've been spending too much time as it is. Wish I could stay and see
Pat, but I can't. Tell him to come up and see me, will you?"
He bid them goodbye and left in his automobile which had been parked
nearby. The next hour was spent in an exciting inspection of the various
planes in the airport, from tiny two-seater monoplanes that looked like
fragile toys, to huge biplanes; and in a growing impatience with Pat's
delay. Finally a tiny speck appeared on the horizon, but the three of
them had been disappointed so often that they did not dare to hope that
this was at last Pat McDermott. But it was. He stepped out of the green
monoplane and pushing up his goggles, looked around him. He spied his
three friends immediately, and hurried to meet them.
"Hi, Irish!" called Captain Bill. "I want you to meet two pals of mine."
He introduced Bob and Hal. "We're going to teach them to fly."
The two boys shook hands with Pat. He looked like his name, a tall,
broad, husky man with a shock of curly hair that had probably once been
red, but which was now brown, with a little gray at the temples; a young
face--it was impossible to tell how old he was; and a broad grin that
spread across his face and up around his eyes, disappearing into the
roots of his hair.
"Well," he said, without ceremony, as though he had been friends of
theirs for years, "They'll make good flyers if they're not too lazy. And
if anybody can make you work, I can. And I will."
The Captain laughed. "Don't take Pat seriously," he said. "He's too lazy
to make you work very hard. But let me warn you that he's trained army
flyers, so you'd better not mind what he says, while he's teaching you."
The boys had gone over and were looking at the Marianne. She was a
beautifully stream-lined craft, large yet graceful.
Pat noticed the boys' admiration, and was pleased. "How about taking a
ride in her now?" he asked.
"They just got down to earth," said the Captain. He explained about Hank
and Hank's plane. Pat was delighted that their old pal had turned up,
and decided that they would have to have a reunion very soon. He also
decided on the spot that he was going along with them to the mountains.
"Try to keep me away. Although I don't much fancy the riding on
cushions, in a fancy plane. When I fly, I want to fly. But if you let me
do the piloting, I'll make the best of that." Pat always decided things
that way, but nobody resented his high-hand manner, since he looked, and
was, the sort of man who could make good on any job he undertook. "Well,
Bob, my lad," he said, turning to the boy, "how about going up? It's the
first step in learning to fly. And don't think that it's going to be
like cabin flying. You'll notice the difference when you get up. Ready?"
"Sure," said Bob.
Pat produced a helmet and some goggles. "It's an open cockpit you're
sitting in," he said. "And see that the goggles fit tightly."
Bob wiggled them around. "They seem all right," he said.
"All right, hop in," Pat told him.
Bob climbed into the rear cockpit, no less thrilled by his second flight
that day than he had been by his first. He waved his hand to the Captain
and Hal who were watching them. Pat climbed into the front cockpit.
"Ready?" he called.
"O. K!" shouted Bob.
Pat started the motor, which was a self-starter. The plane taxied gently
across the field, and Pat turned her nose into the wind. Bob felt her
lift from the earth; there was a bump--they hadn't quite cleared; Pat
speeded up, until Bob, looking over the side of the cockpit, could see
the ground slipping by dizzily. Then the bumping stopped; they had left
the ground. This time they did not again bump; the Marianne soared into
the air.
Bob could feel the blast of air against his face, and he was glad his
goggles fitted well. The motor roared, the wind screamed. Bob tried to
shout, but could not hear himself uttering a sound. He looked down. The
airport looked as it had from the other plane. Now he had more of the
feeling of flying. There was a sudden bump. The Marianne dropped
suddenly. Bob felt as though he were in an elevator that had descended
very suddenly--there was the same pit-of-the-stomach feeling. Air bump,
he thought, and it was. He looked over the side again, and could see
nothing. They were traveling pretty high.
Then suddenly the roar of the motor stopped, and they began to descend
at what Bob felt must be an almost unbelievable speed. At first Bob was
frightened, but then realized that they were gliding down. Every now and
then Pat turned on his engine again. Bob, looking over the side, could
see the fields coming up to meet them. They landed so gently that he
hardly felt the jolt of the wheels touching the ground.
How funny to stand on the stable ground once more! The sound of the
motor was still roaring in Bob's ears. He pulled off the goggles and
helmet. "It was marvelous!" he shouted loudly to his friends.
"We can hear you," said the Captain. "You needn't shout!"
"Was I shouting?" laughed Bob.
"You are," said the Captain.
But Pat had turned to Hal. "Well, lad, you're next."
But Hal said what he had been rehearsing for many minutes, in fact, ever
since Bob had taken to the air. "Don't you think it's rather late? We
haven't had any lunch. Maybe we could go up again after lunch."
Captain Bill, who knew the struggle that was going on in Hal's heart,
and who was getting hungry anyway, said, "Lunch. That's the idea. We've
got a great picnic lunch, Pat."
"Lead me to it," said Pat.
"Knew that would get you," laughed the Captain.
They left the plane in charge of a mechanic, who was to look after it,
and went over to the automobile that the Captain had parked. They
decided, on Bob's suggestion, to eat on a grassy slope from which they
could see the airport.
"I've got an idea," said the Captain. "You can start your story about
Lindbergh."
"I'm ready," said Bob, "if you're ready to listen. I think I know the
story backwards and forward."
"Begin at the beginning, always," the Captain warned.
They reached the spot where they had chosen to picnic, and settled back
contentedly in the long grass to hear part of Bob's story before lunch.