CHAPTER III

THE KANE AIRCRAFT

Stephen set up his workshop at home, devoting his evenings to the new

aëroplane. Progress was necessarily slow, as four or five hours out of

each twenty-four were all he could devote to his enterprise.

The boy was still employed in this manner when the Aviation Meet was

held at Dominguez Field and Paulhan accomplished the wonderful flights

that made him world famous. Of course, Orissa and Stephen were present

and did not miss a single event. On the grand stand beside them sat a

young fellow Stephen had often met at the automobile shop, a chauffeur

named Arch Hoxsey. It was the first time Hoxsey had ever seen an

aëroplane, and neither he nor Stephen could guess that within one year

this novice would become the greatest aviator in all the world. These

are days when, comet-like, a heretofore unknown aviator appears,

accomplishes marvels and disappears, eclipsed by some new master of the

art of flying. It is the same way with aëroplanes; the leading one

to-day is within a brief period destined to be surpassed by a greatly

improved machine.

The enthusiasm of the Kanes rose to fever heat in witnessing this

exhibition, at the time the most remarkable ever held in the annals of

aviation. Afterward they counseled together very seriously and agreed

that it would be better for Steve to resign his position at the shop and

devote his whole time to his aëroplane, in which he had now more

confidence than ever.

He applied for patents on his various devices and the complete machine,

being fearful that someone else might adopt his ideas before he could

finish his first aëroplane; yet at the same time he observed the utmost

secrecy as to the work on which he was engaged and admitted no person

except Orissa to the garden, where he had set up his hangar and shop.

The girl had been for some time persistently seeking employment, for now

that Steve had ceased to be a breadwinner it was more important than

ever for her to earn money. By good fortune she was engaged by Mr.

Burthon as his secretary the very week following her brother’s

retirement.

Steve’s expenses were growing greater, however, and Orissa began

figuring on “ways and means.” Their life in this retired place was so

simple that she believed her mother could do without the maid and

questioned her on the subject. Mrs. Kane declared she preferred to be

alone, if Orissa felt she could prepare the breakfasts and dinners

unaided. Luncheons at home were very plain affairs and Steve readily

agreed to come into the house at noon and get a bite for himself and his

mother. So the maid was dismissed and a considerable expense eliminated.

During the summer construction of the airship progressed more rapidly

and, after the motors were completed and tested and found to be nearly

perfect, Steve began to model the planes and perfect his automatic

balance.

It was hard work sometimes for Orissa to sit in the office and keep her

mind on her work when she knew her brother was completing or testing

some important detail of the aëroplane, but she held herself in rigid

restraint and succeeded in giving satisfaction to her employer.

On the August afternoon on which our story opens Stephen Kane was to

begin the final assembling of the parts of his machine, after which he

could test it in real flight. He needed Orissa’s assistance to help him

handle some of the huge ribbed planes, and so she had promised to come

home early.

It was not long before she entered the hangar, arrayed in her old

gingham, which allowed her to move freely. The two became so interested

that Mrs. Kane almost missed her dinner in spite of the girl’s promise;

but Orissa did manage to tear herself away from the fascinating task

long enough to prepare the meal and serve it. Steve came in and tried to

eat, for he was at a point where he could do nothing without his

sister’s help; but neither of them was able to swallow more than a

morsel, and as quickly as possible hurried back to their work.

Mrs. Kane, although totally blind, knew her way about the house

perfectly and was able to take care of herself in nearly all ways; so

when bedtime came she abandoned her monotonous knitting, played a few

pieces on the pianoforte—one of her few amusements—and then calmly

retired for the night. She never worried over the “children,” believing

they were competent to care for themselves.

It was long past midnight before Steve got to a point where he could

continue without Orissa. “In about three days more,” he said, as they

washed up and prepared to adjourn to the house, “I will be able to make

my first flight. Shall we wait till Sunday, Ris, or will you take a day

off?”

“Oh, not Sunday,” she replied. However eager her brother might be she

had never yet allowed him to work a moment on a Sunday, and Steve

deferred to her wishes in this regard. “We’re pretty busy at the office

and Mr. Burthon was inclined to be a little cranky to-day; but I’ll

manage it somehow, just as soon as you are ready.”

“What sort of a fellow is Burthon?” asked her brother, somewhat

curiously.

“Why, he stands well in the business world, I’m told, and is very

successful in handling large tracts of real estate,” she replied. “Also,

he seems a gentleman by birth and breeding, yet a queerer man I never

met. His chief peculiarity is in being very absent-minded, but he does

other odd things. Yesterday he refused to sell a piece of land to a

customer because he did not like him, and he told the man so with rude

frankness. One day I discovered he had cheated another man out of six

hundred dollars. I called his attention to what I described as a

‘mistake,’ and he said he robbed the man on purpose, because he had been

snobbish and overbearing. He gave the six hundred dollars to a poor

woman to build her a house with, saying to me that he had once committed

a serious crime for which this was in part penance, and soon after he

platted a lot of swamp land down near San Pedro and advertised it as

‘desirable residence property.’ Really, Steve, I can’t quite make out

Mr. Burthon.”

“He seems to have good and bad points, from what you say,” observed her

brother, “and I judge the two qualities are about evenly mixed. Is he

nice to you, Ris?”

“He is always polite and respectful, but most of the time he doesn’t

know I’m in existence. When he gets one of his absorbed fits his eyes

look right through me, as if I wasn’t there.”

“Perhaps he is thinking out some big schemes. Is he a rich man?”

“He is said to be quite wealthy. But he is an old bachelor, and the girl

across the hall says he lives at a club, goes to the theater every night

and drinks more than is good for him. I hardly believe that last, Steve,

for Mr. Burthon doesn’t look a bit like a drinking man.”

“Perhaps he’s a morphine fiend. That would make him absent-minded, you

know.”

“No; when he’s aroused his head is clear as a bell and he drives a

shrewd bargain. Do you know, Steve, I’m inclined to think that speech of

his was in earnest, although he laughed harshly at the time, and

that—that—”

“That what?”

“That at some time or other he has committed some crime that worries

him.”

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The Flying Girl · 第 3 / 26 章