THE FLYING FEVER
Mr. Cumberford said frankly to Steve and Orissa:
“Don’t expect too much of Sybil, or you’ll be disappointed. She’s
peculiar, and the things that interest her are often those the world
cares nothing for. Anything odd or unusual is sure to strike her fancy;
that’s why she’s so enraptured with the aircraft.”
The word enraptured did not seem, to Steve, to describe Sybil’s attitude
at all; but Orissa, watching the girl’s face, decided it was especially
appropriate. They left her standing before the machine and went on with
their work, while Mr. Cumberford ignored his daughter and smoked
cigarettes while he watched, as usual, every movement of the young
mechanic.
“Saw Burthon this morning,” he remarked, presently.
“Did he say anything?” asked Steve.
“No. Just smiled. That shows he’s up to something. Wonder what it is.”
Steve shook his head.
“I don’t see how that man can possibly injure me,” he said, musingly.
“I’ve gone straight ahead, in an honest fashion, and minded my own
business. As for the machine, that’s honest, too, and all my
improvements are patented.”
“They’re what?”
“Patented, sir; registered in the patent office at Washington.”
“Oho!”
Steve looked at him, surprised.
“Well, sir?”
“You’re an irresponsible idiot, Stephen Kane.”
“Because I patented my inventions?”
“Yes, sir; for placing full descriptions and drawings of them before the
public until you’ve startled the aviation world and are ready to
advertise what you’ve done.”
Steve stared, a perception of Cumberford’s meaning gradually coming to
him.
“Why, as for that,” he said a little uneasily, “no one ever takes the
trouble to read up new patents, there are so many of them. And, after
all, it’s a protection.”
“Is it? I can put another brace in that new elevator of yours and get a
patent on it as an improvement. The brace won’t help it any, but it will
give me the right to use it. I’m not positive I couldn’t prevent you
from using yours, if I got mine publicly exhibited and on the market
first.”
Steve was bewildered, and Orissa looked very grave. But Mr. Cumberford
lighted another cigarette and added:
“Nevertheless, I wouldn’t worry. As you say, the patent office is a
rubbish heap which few people ever care to examine. Is everything
covered by patent?”
“Everything but the new automatic balance. I haven’t had time to send
that on.”
“Then don’t.”
“The old one is patented, but it proved a failure and nearly killed me.
The one I am now completing is entirely different.”
“Good. Don’t patent it until after the aviation meet. It’s your
strongest point. Keep that one surprise, at least, up your sleeve.”
As Steve was considering this advice Sybil Cumberford came softly to her
father’s side and said:
“Daddy, I want to fly.”
“To flee or to flew?” he asked, banteringly, at the same time looking at
her intently.
“To fly in the air.”
Mr. Cumberford sighed.
“Kane, what will a duplicate of your aircraft cost?”
“I can’t say exactly, sir,” replied the boy, smiling.
“Shall we order one, Sybil?”
She stood staring straight ahead, with that impenetrable, mysterious
look in her dark eyes which was so typical of the girl. Cumberford threw
away his cigarette and coughed.
“We’ll consider that proposition some time, Steve,” he continued, rather
hastily. “Meantime, perhaps my daughter could make a trial flight in
your machine.”
“Perhaps,” said Steve, doubtfully.
“Will it carry two?”
“It would support the weight of two easily,” replied the young man; “but
I would be obliged to rig up a second seat.”
“Do so, please,” requested Miss Cumberford, in her even, subdued voice.
“When will it be ready?”
“The aircraft will be complete in about ten days from now; but before I
attempt to carry a passenger I must give it a thorough personal test,”
said Steve, with decision. “You may watch my flights, Miss Cumberford,
if you wish, and after I’ve proved the thing to be correct and safe I’ll
do what I can to favor you—if you’re not afraid, and still want to make
the trial.”
“Thank you,” she said, and turned away.
“I’ll go myself, some time,” observed Mr. Cumberford, after a pause.
“Flying interests me.”
Orissa was much amused. She had not known many girls of her own age, but
such as she had met were all commonplace creatures compared with this
strange girl, who at present seemed unable to tear herself away from the
airship. Sybil did not convey the impression of being ill-bred or
forward, however unconventional she might be; yet it seemed to Orissa
that she constantly held herself firmly repressed, yet alert and
watchful, much like a tiger crouched ready to spring upon an
unsuspecting prey. In spite of this uncanny attribute, Orissa found
herself powerfully drawn toward the peculiar girl, and resolved to make
an attempt to win her confidence and friendship.
With this thought in mind she joined Sybil, who was again examining the
aëroplane with rapt attention. While she stood at her side the girl
asked, without glancing up:
“Have you ever made a flight?”
“No,” replied Orissa.
“Why not?”
“I haven’t had an opportunity.”
“Don’t you like it?”
“I imagine I would enjoy a trip through the air,” answered Orissa; “that
is, after I became accustomed to being suspended in such a thin
element.”
“You seem to understand your brother’s invention perfectly.”
“Oh, I do, in its construction and use. You see, I’ve been with Steve
from the beginning; also I’ve examined several other modern aëroplanes
and watched the flights at Dominguez Field. Naturally I’m enthusiastic
over aviation, but I haven’t yet considered the idea of personally
attempting a flight. To manage a machine in the air requires a quick
eye, a clear brain and a lot of confidence and courage.”
“Is it so dangerous?” asked Miss Cumberford quietly.
“Not if you have the qualities I mention and a bit of experience or
training to help you in emergencies. I’m sure an aëroplane is as safe as
a steam car, and a little safer than an automobile; but a certain amount
of skill is required to manage even those.”
The girl’s lips curled scornfully, as if she impugned this statement;
but she remained silent for a while before continuing her catechism.
Then she asked:
“Do you mean to try flying?”
“Perhaps so, some day,” said Orissa, smiling; “when aëroplanes have
become so common that my fears are dissipated. But, really, I haven’t
given the matter a thought. That is Steve’s business, just now. All I’m
trying to do is help him get ready.”
“You believe his device to be practical?”
“It’s the best I have ever seen, and I’ve examined all the famous
aëroplanes.”
“What has my father to do with this invention?”
Orissa was surprised.
“Hasn’t he told you?” she asked.
“Only that it ‘interests him;’ but many things do that.”
“We needed money to complete the aircraft, and Mr. Cumberford kindly let
us have it,” explained the girl.
“What did he demand in return?”
“Nothing but our promise to repay him in case we succeed.”
Sybil shot a swift glance toward her father.
“Look out for him,” she murmured. “He’s a dangerous man—in business
deals.”
“But this isn’t business,” protested Orissa, earnestly; “indeed, his act
was wholly irregular from a business standpoint. As a matter of fact,
Mr. Cumberford has been very generous and unselfish in his attitude
toward us. We like your father, Miss Cumberford, and—we trust him.”
The girl stood silent a moment; then she slowly turned her face to
Orissa with a rare and lovely smile which quite redeemed its plainness.
From that moment she lost her reserve, toward Orissa at least, and it
was evident the praise of her father had fully won her heart.
Day by day, thereafter, Sybil came with Mr. Cumberford to the hangar,
until the important time arrived when Steve was to test the
reconstructed aircraft. By Cumberford’s advice the trial was made in the
early morning, and in order to be present both father and daughter
accepted the hospitality of the Kanes for the previous night, Sybil
sharing Orissa’s bed while Steve gave up his room to Mr. Cumberford and
stretched himself upon a bench in the hangar.
Mrs. Kane knew that her son was to make an attempt to fly at daybreak,
but was quite undisturbed. The description of the Kane Aircraft, which
Orissa had minutely given her, seemed to inspire her with full
confidence, and if she had a thought of danger she never mentioned it to
anyone. The Cumberfords were very nice to Mrs. Kane, while she, in
return, accepted their friendship unreservedly. Orissa knew her mother
to be an excellent judge of character, for while her affliction
prevented her from reading a face her ear was trained to catch every
inflection of a voice, and by that she judged with rare accuracy. Once
she said to her daughter: “Mr. Cumberford is a man with a fine nature
who has in some way become embittered; perhaps through unpleasant
experiences. He does not know his real self, and mistrusts it; for which
reason his actions may at times be eccentric, or even erratic. But under
good influences he will be found reliable and a safe friend. His
daughter, on the contrary, knows her own character perfectly and abhors
it. As circumstances direct she will become very bad or very good, for
she has a strong, imperious nature and may only be influenced through
her affections. I think it is good for her to have you for a friend.”
This verdict coincided well with Orissa’s own observations and she
accepted it as veritable. Yet Sybil was a constant enigma to her and
seldom could she understand the impulses that dominated her. The girl
was mysterious in many ways. She saw everything and everyone without
looking directly at them; she found hidden meanings in the most simple
and innocent phrases; always she seemed suspecting an underlying motive
in each careless action, and Orissa was often uneasy at Sybil’s implied
suggestion that she was not sincere. The girl would be cold and silent
for days together; then suddenly become animated and voluble—a mood that
suited her much better than the first. Steve said to his sister: “You
may always expect the unexpected of Sybil.” Which proved he had also
been studying this peculiar girl.
------------------------------------------------------------------------