WHERE IS BOHUNKUS?
Harvey Hamilton stayed in Chesterton till the close of the incidents
just narrated. His interest was so stirred that he had no wish to
leave before their conclusion. During the hours of waiting, he made
several short flights in his aeroplane, and when he and Detective
Pendar were called upon to give their evidence the flying machine
was convenient. In addition, he gave several of the townsmen the
most thrilling experiences of their lives. He invited Uncle Tommy
Waters to accompany him on an aerial excursion, but a million
dollars would not have tempted the old gentleman to take his feet
off the firm earth.
A seemingly small matter gave the young aviator anxiety. Upon his
return from the explosion of the shanty, he expected to find
Bohunkus Johnson either sitting on the porch of the hotel or
strolling about the town. Although the colored youth was offended by
the brusque reproof of Harvey, it was not his nature to hold a
grudge, and his friend was prepared to meet him half way and
apologize for his hasty words, but no Bohunkus showed up. The night
passed without his appearance. Harvey went to his room in the early
morning only to find that his bed had not been occupied.
“He has gone home,” was the conclusion of the youth. “If he wishes
to pout I shall not interfere, but he ought to have left some word
for me.”
While waiting in Chesterton, Harvey wrote a letter to his father,
giving a full account of the recovery of little Grace Hastings, her
restoration to her parents and the capture of the two surviving
members of the Black Hand, which, as has been stated, was duly
followed by their sentence to long terms in the penitentiary. This
letter was crossed by one from his father, which confirmed the
explanation made by Mr. Pendar of the wrecking of the first
aeroplane. He had received quick notice of the misfortune from
Professor Morgan, and sympathizing with his son had provided him
with a second flying machine in record time. When a young man who
took an aerial ride with Harvey told him he had seen the two
supposed commercial travelers in the vicinity of the hotel sheds at
daylight of the eventful morning, the last shadow of doubt was
removed as to the identity of the offenders.
Mr. Hastings paid over the entire reward to Simmons Pendar, who
would have insisted that one-half of the large sum should go to
Harvey Hamilton, had the latter not notified him that any such
proposition would be accepted as an insult.
Despite a feeling of vexation, Harvey became so concerned over
Bohunkus that he finally telegraphed to Mr. Cecil Hartley, the
farmer to whom the colored boy had been bound years before, and
asked whether he was at home. The reply was that he had not been
seen since he left in the aeroplane with Harvey. This was
disquieting news and the youth did not know what to make of it. Had
not Detective Pendar been absent just then he would have applied to
him for counsel. Enlightenment, however, came from an unexpected
quarter.
It was on the evening of the second day, after the guests at the
hotel had eaten supper and left the dining-room, that the landlord
came out and sat down near Harvey, who occupied a chair at the
farther end of the porch. The boniface was chuckling as if in good
humor over something. Harvey wondered what it could be.
“You ain’t worrying about that darkey of yours?” was the first
question.
“I am not worried so much as I am curious,” replied the youth; “he
took offense the other day because I reproved him for an act of
stupidity, but it is not his nature to sulk so long. I thought he
had gone home, but learned a short while ago that he hasn’t been
there.”
“Oh, no; he’s a long way from home by this time.”
“Do you know where he is?” asked the startled Harvey.
“Not precisely, but I reckon I can make a good guess.”
“Please do so.”
“You remember that after that queer crank that they call Professor
Morgan had blowed up the headquarters of them kidnappers, he did not
stay in them parts.”
“No; I noticed he headed for Chesterton.”
“That’s where he came; he landed in the shed yard near the spot
where your machine was smashed and had hardly touched the airth when
that darkey of yours was there and the two begun talking together
mighty earnest.”
“Do you know what it was about?” asked Harvey, in whose mind a
sudden suspicion had formed.
“I don’t know what was said at first, ’cause they was too fur off
for me to hear, but they hadn’t been talking more’n five
minutes—maybe not that long—when they walked up on the porch and sot
down. I was standing a few feet from them looking out at the things
which was beginning to hum, so I heard about all that was said. What
do you ’spose it was about?”
“I can make a guess, but I prefer you should tell me.”
“That darkey said something about his father that was a famous chief
in Africa that he’d like to visit, and he asked the Professor if he
couldn’t take him there. The Professor said nothing in the world was
easier, though he wasn’t sure his machine was quite ready, but it
would be very soon. He had made a lot of wonderful inventions and
had figured out things so he could keep afloat in the air for nigh
twenty-four hours. They would have to do better than that to cross
the Atlantic Ocean, but he hadn’t any doubt he would soon have
matters settled so there would be no trouble. As near as I could
make out, the Professor invited him to go along and stay with him
while he finished some experiments and got things fixed so he could
remain aloft for two or three weeks, without taking aboard any new
ile.”
“And Bohunkus agreed to that!” exclaimed Harvey.
“If that is the darkey’s name, he jumped at the chance. The
Professor’s idea was to wait at the hotel here for two or three
days, till matters sort of quieted down, but the African insisted
they should start at once.”
“That perhaps was natural, but did he give any reasons for his
haste?”
The landlord chuckled again.
“He said it was on your account; you was always interfering with his
affairs, and you’d be sure to make objections; you meant well, but
you didn’t know much and they would have trouble with you if they
didn’t leave before you got back. I hope you ain’t offended with the
words I’m telling you.”
“Offended!” repeated Harvey, “that good-hearted fellow couldn’t
offend me; I only feel concern because he has placed himself in the
hands of a lunatic.”
“That’s the Professor and no mistake. Well, the darkey had it all
his own way. Not long after, they walked out to the shed yards and
shot away in that outlandish machine that doesn’t make any noise and
travels like a greased streak of lightning. Before they started, the
Professor told the darkey he must not write any letter of
explanation to you.”
“Did he do so?”
“He didn’t think of it at first, but the Professor had reminded him,
so he went to his own room and wrote without his knowledge.”
“What did he do with the letter?”
“Gave it to me.”
“And why didn’t you hand it to me?” asked Harvey.
“‘Cause I had to promise I wouldn’t till this evening after supper.
The darkey explained that if you got it too soon, you’d butt in and
upset things and he didn’t mean to have anything like that. Here’s
the letter.”
And the landlord drew a missive from his inner coat pocket and
handed it to Harvey, remarking as he did so:
“I had a mind to give it to you as soon as you and the detective got
back, for I didn’t feel right about that outlandish scheme of the
Professor, but I had made my promise and stuck to it.”
Excusing himself, Harvey Hamilton walked into the writing-room, and
under the glare of the gaslight unfolded a sheet of paper which was
not inclosed in an envelope. He recognized the scrawling hand that
had written his name on the outside and read the following amazing
communication. The only liberty I have taken with it is in the way
of punctuation, in order to help make clear the meaning:
“DEER HARV:
“doan’ think ime mad at U, coz I aint,—its all right; I
think a bully lot of U. Me and the purfesser start 2 day for
Afriky to make a vizzit to my dad, the grate cheef Foozleum,
when i cum back, ile bring U a nelefunt that we’ll hang in a
nett under the masheen. I meen to fetch a graff 2 [several
other spellings of this difficult word were crossed out], as
we can cut a hole in the top of the dragging of the Skize
and let his head stick thru; doan’ try to foller us, ’cause
U can’t carry nuff ighl to keep the steem agoing no
more,—with luv.
BUNK.”
Harvey smiled at this phonetic system run mad. Then an expression of
worriment clouded his countenance.
“Poor Bunk! You don’t know what you are doing. You have gone into a
danger from which heaven alone can save you; but I shall do all I
can without wasting an hour, though I fear it is too late.”
And what Harvey Hamilton did and all that befell Bohunkus Johnson in
his aerial flight with Professor Morgan will be told in
“THE FLYING BOYS TO THE RESCUE.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Transcriber's Notes:
Italicized phrases are presented by surrounding the text with
_underscores_. Small capitals have been rendered in full
capitals.
Punctuation has been standardized. Minor spelling and
typographic errors have been corrected silently, except as noted
below. Hyphenated words have been retained as they appear in the
original text.
Alternate spellings of "anyone" and "any one" have been left as
is in the text.
Alternate spellings of "manœuver" and "maneuver" have been left
as is in the text.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Flying Boys in the Sky, by Edward Ellis