A CHAPTER ON CLOTHES
So far as the two boys were concerned, nothing now remained to be done
but to pack the aëroplane for shipment.
“I reckon your uncle can afford to send it by express,” said Phil. “But
it’ll cost a lot.”
“And even then we’ll beat it there, I suppose,” added Frank, “for, out
on those mountain railroads, nothing goes anywhere directly. I wish it
was on the way now.”
It was a beautiful day and “an awful waste” of good weather, as Phil
put it. “Think of it,” he suggested, “sittin’ around here just doin’
nothin’ when we might be out there where we’re goin’――”
“Makin’ camp on some tree covered plateau way up near the snow line, or
out lookin’ for bear tracks or a deer trail in the scrub――” broke in
Frank.
“Or dozin’ in the same kind o’ sun on the pine needles and squintin’
at some big bald eagle lazyin’ through the clouds above you――”
interrupted Phil.
The boys were at the Graham house anxiously awaiting some word from Mr.
Mackworth. Early in the afternoon Mr. Mackworth and his two friends
suddenly appeared on foot, having walked from the hotel.
“Had your breakfast yet, Frank?” was Mr. Mackworth’s greeting.
“Breakfast?” snorted Frank. “Why we’ve had our dinner. Why didn’t you
call up? I’d have brought the car for you.”
“We wanted the walk,” exclaimed Captain Ludington who, in frock coat,
silk gloves and patent leathers, with a bunch of blossoms in his
buttonhole, looked as fresh and young as Lord Pelton who, by the way,
was similarly costumed, except that he wore gray instead of black. “And
we’re prepared to go further. If it isn’t too much trouble might we not
walk to the airship?”
“Naturally, we’re a bit curious about the airship,” added the younger
Englishman.
Mr. and Mrs. Graham having received the visitors, it was explained that
the airship house was a full mile distant. But, as the Englishmen
seemed determined to continue their walk the party, excepting Mrs.
Graham, set out on foot. Mr. Graham, Captain Ludington and Lord Pelton
led the way.
“Your friends certainly look swell,” said Frank, after a bit, to Mr.
Mackworth. “They’re dolled up like a weddin’.”
“Rather good taste, don’t you think?” answered Frank’s uncle with his
peculiar smile.
“O, I don’t like to see grown up men fixed so fancy,” answered Frank.
“But I guess they ain’t got much else to do.”
“You don’t object to _my_ costume, do you?” went on Mr. Mackworth with
the same smile.
“You look pretty comfortable and cool,” answered Phil as both boys
looked over their older companion who was wearing a Panama hat, a white
silk negligee shirt and lightweight suit with belt and tan shoes.
“And lazy,” went on Mr. Mackworth, his smile unchanged. Then his
smile faded and he gave each boy a straight look. “Young men,” he
said slowly, “the men before you who are so carefully dressed are not
‘dolls’ and each has considerable ‘else to do.’ They have seen fit
to make themselves comfortable in certain clothing as you boys have
seen fit to do the same thing in your own way. But you may be sure
than neither of them would have commented on that loose button on your
shirt, Frank, or that spot on your collar, Phil.”
“Why I didn’t mean anything, uncle,” broke in Frank instantly.
“We think they’re fine gentlemen,” added Phil guiltily.
Mr. Mackworth held up his hands and the little smile came back.
“And you both think they are what we used to call ‘dudes,’ young
gentlemen. That’s because you have a great deal to learn. I’m glad to
be taking you on your first trip. When you come back I hope you’ll have
begun to size up a man by his head and not by his clothes.”
“I’m sorry,” began Frank, “but I don’t think you understand.”
“I understand perfectly,” went on Mr. Mackworth, “because I’ve had the
same experience. And there’ll come a time when you’ll know better.”
“Gee,” whispered Phil to Frank a little later. “I’m glad he don’t know
what we expected his friends to look like.”
The boys soon had a lasting illustration that frock coats and silk
hats don’t necessarily make one less a man. When the party reached Mr.
Graham’s lumberyard and the airship shed, it was time for the boys to
take charge of the program. And from the moment that the big doors were
thrown open, the retired and quiet spot burst into a beelike murmur of
buzzing questions and answers.
The bronzelike planes of the stout monoplane stretched out like
the wings of a metallic beetle. The composition windows――clear and
dustless――were all in place. Each observation instrument and recorder
also hung in place. The grapnel lines and rope ladder lay in shipshape
coils on the floor. The exposed metal of the engine glowed like the
barrel of a Tommy Atkins’ rifle. The aluminum body and the aluminum
varnished struts and braces of the car resembled Chinese lacquer in
smoothness.
“Would you believe it, Captain?” exclaimed Lord Pelton at once in
enthusiastic admiration. “Quite a bit better than our dirty military
machines at home. What?”
“I not only will believe it,” was Captain Ludington’s rejoinder, “but
I do. Young gentlemen,” he continued, “am I to understand that you
actually made all of this marvelous craft except the engine?”
“Wherever we found a better mechanic in this town,” acknowledged Frank,
“we hired him to do parts――cabinet workers and metal workers. But they
worked on our plans and models.”
“Well,” continued the captain, “of course, I haven’t had the widest
acquaintance with such craft, although we already have a corps at work
in India and I have attended a few trials by the military squad at
home. But, I know enough to appreciate what is before me. I desire to
congratulate and compliment you. I must also again thank Mr. Mackworth.
I can see we are to get both pleasure and profit from your genius.”
As the distinguished appearing soldier spoke he removed his hat and
bowed as if saluting royalty. While both boys mumbled their thanks,
red in face and embarrassed, each had the same idea. Frank expressed
it later. “And it wouldn’t have sounded half as fine and good,” he
explained to Phil, “if he hadn’t been all ‘dolled’ up. I guess maybe
there’s a time to wear those togs.”
As soon as all had had a view of the natty machine, Frank and Phil
threw off their coats. The windows were dropped and each of the
visitors was assisted into the car to acquaint him with the cabin. The
instruments were explained and finally, the propellers disconnected,
the beautiful sixteen-cylinder engine was put in operation. Without
a break or a jar the sound of its opposed, balanced pistons blended
into each other until only the whirr of throttled power hummed its one
monotonous note through the long shed.
“Hook up the wheels,” exclaimed Mr. Mackworth enthusiastically.
“Not in here,” explained Phil. “They’re made for pushing and they do
it. If the machine can’t respond something’s goin’ to give way.”
“You mean she’s got to be able to fly?” continued Mr. Mackworth.
“Well, why not? Haul her out and give us a flight.”
It was Sunday, a day on which the boys had never made flights.
“We haven’t been flying on Sunday――” began Frank.
Captain Ludington at once nodded in approval.
“I think Sunday should be play day for those who have no other,” he
commented. “As we are soon to have none but play days perhaps it would
be well to wait.”
“You’re right,” replied Mr. Mackworth. “In camp, I’ve always found it a
good thing to make Sunday a day of rest.”
As he finished his eyes appeared to notice for the first time a sign on
the wall:
NO SMOKING HERE.
He at once threw the cigar he was smoking out of the shed and again
gave his attention to the airship and its contents. He also expressed
a desire to re-enter the cabin and had just done so with Phil――Frank
being busy with the engine――when there was a rush and Lord Pelton
disappeared through the doors.
The act was unnoticed by Frank, who was bending over the engine; but
Phil, high in the car, gasped and turned cold. From his position he
could see the cause of Lord Pelton’s sudden flight. On the edge of
the wide runway and about five feet from the wide open doors Phil had
left an open can of gasoline from which Frank had just taken fluid
for priming. At this point the runway was only about a foot from the
ground. Mr. Mackworth’s burning cigar had fallen on the runway just
here and then dropped off the edge into a little pile of scraps and
shavings.
Even as Phil saw thin smoke ascending above the platform and through
it made out the first tiny tongue of red flame, the flying form of
the young Englishman blotted all from view. Before Phil could sound
an alarm Lord Pelton had the can in both arms, its dusty and greasy
exterior smearing his immaculate coat and gloves and the slopping oil
splashing over his face and shirt.
[Illustration: THE FIRE IN THE HANGAR]
Nor was the younger of the guests alone in his quick thinking. Mr.
Graham, Mr. Mackworth and Frank were just trying to make out the
situation when Phil, throwing himself from the cabin of the car with
a cry of warning, grew tense with a new alarm. The smouldering blaze
beneath the runway had found the spilled gasoline on the boards above
and the little flames suddenly exploded into a puff of thick white
smoke. The dripping can had left enough gasoline to set the runway on
fire.
As those in the shed rushed forward, led by Phil, Captain Ludington,
well ahead of them, had already saved the day. With no hesitation, and
realizing that the safety of the airship depended on instant action, he
had thrown off his long frock coat, tossed it on the blazing runway and
was smothering the blaze beneath its folds.
It was only a few minutes’ work to control the blazing shavings and
once again the perspiring group drew natural breaths. Lord Pelton was
already laughing at his bedraggled appearance.
“Don’t come near me with cigars,” he shouted, “or I’ll explode.”
His silk hat had rolled aside into the sand and rubbish; his high
collar, light scarf, shirt front and cuffs were limp with gasoline and
the red tint of the can had ruined the front of his coat.
“You’ll need an overcoat or a barrel,” laughed Captain Ludington.
“How about you?” retorted Lord Pelton who, to Frank’s and Phil’s
amazement, seemed more amused than annoyed. At the same moment Lord
Pelton pushed Captain Ludington aside and picked up the latter’s coat.
Two large, charred holes exposed the lining within.
“It’ll be cooler,” laughed the captain. “Meanwhile,” he added more
seriously, “if we saved our airship from damage I think we may
congratulate ourselves. And as for you,” he went on with a great
pretense of indignation and facing Mr. Mackworth, “let this be a
warning to you and your endless black cigars. Now a decent pipe and
this would never――”
“Properly rebuked,” exclaimed Mr. Mackworth. “I shall not smoke for an
hour as a penance. For your brilliant personal services I shall see
that each of you receives a hero’s medal. As to how you are to effect a
retreat, that too shall be arranged. The destruction of your clothes
need not annoy you. Where we are going I assure you there will be no
need for frock coats. If you ever return to London I shall do further
penance by ordering your tailors to make you new and whole.”
Mr. Graham could not so humorously dismiss the incident. He attempted
genuine apologies but the Englishmen persisted in turning the affair
about; declaring that the possible prevention of damage to the _Loon_
made the other damage not worth consideration. After Frank and Phil had
had their say the boys withdrew into the aërodrome.
“Phil,” whispered Frank, “I wish you’d give me a good swift kick.”
“That’s not necessary,” answered Phil, his face as scarlet as Frank’s.
“It’s a stand off.”
“Well, anyway,” mumbled Frank, wiping his perspiring face, “if ever you
hear me get smart about any man’s clothes again before I’ve seen him in
action, don’t you wait. Just let ’er come.”
At Mr. Graham’s suggestion the watchman’s shanty was broken open and a
telephone call made for the automobile. Waiting for the car, the plans
for the coming week were taken up and Mr. Mackworth ordered the boys to
begin the crating of the monoplane the following morning.
“Is she goin’ by express?” Frank asked.
Mr. Mackworth shook his head, looking longingly at another cigar which
he dared not light.
“I think we’ll have to wait quite awhile if she goes by freight,”
suggested Phil.
“Of course,” answered Mr. Mackworth. “It’ll be best to take it with us.
There’ll be room, I think.”
“With us?” echoed Phil.
“In our private car,” explained Mr. Mackworth. “It has a baggage
compartment. It’ll be here to-morrow or next day.”