THE FAT MAN’S WAGER
For a moment, following Noddy’s excited announcement, it looked as
if there would be a fight. The bully was very angry, and he probably
thought that the motor boys had come into his tent to make fun of him.
“Are you going to get out?” he cried, as Jerry showed no signs of
withdrawing, and the other three lads stood their ground.
“I don’t think so,” replied Jerry.
“Then I’ll make you. Bill--Bill--come in here and help me put them out!”
“That was Bill Berry outside,” murmured Ned.
A second later Bill came running in.
“Put Jerry Hopkins and his gang out! I don’t want them here,” said
Noddy.
“How are you, Bill? Wrecked any more steamers lately?” asked Jerry
quickly, and Bill, who must have fancied that disguising himself by
shaving off his moustache was not sufficient, decided that it was
better to retreat.
“Get out of here! Clear out!” ordered Noddy, suddenly rushing at the
four boys. They did not attempt to strike him, and Noddy knew better
than to run the risk of hostilities by delivering any blows. He
only pushed and shoved, and, as he was one against four, he was not
succeeding very well.
Suddenly Noddy slipped and stumbled, bumping up against a fat woman
who just then had entered the tent. She screamed, and there was some
confusion in the place, which contained quite a few people.
A man pushed his way through the throng that was gathered about the
entrance, some trying to get out of the way of impending trouble, and
others seeking to come in. The man wore a badge on his coat.
“What’s the row?” he asked quickly. “What’s the excitement about?”
“We came in to view this machine, paying our way,” said Jerry, for he
noticed that the man’s badge indicated that he was a member of the aero
carnival committee. “The owner of the _Firefly_, Noddy Nixon, refuses
to let us see it, after we have paid our money.”
“What’s that?” asked the committee member sternly. “He won’t let you
see it? None of that, young man! When you are given an exhibition
space on this ground you have to conform to all the rules of the
association. Any one who pays admission is entitled to see any machine
on the grounds. You can’t do any crooked work like that or we’ll order
you off. This is a genuine exhibition.”
“Well, they’ll make fun of me--they’re enemies of mine, and I don’t
want ’em here,” whined Noddy.
“That makes no difference. You’ll not be the first inventor who was
laughed at--especially those who build airships. If you can’t stand
being made fun of you’ve no business to go into this carnival. Now let
me hear of no more disturbances in your tent, or I’ll close you up. Of
course, you boys can stay. The idea of him trying to prevent you!” and
the man looked at Noddy in disgust as he withdrew.
Much crestfallen, Noddy walked into a smaller tent erected within the
larger one, and there he nursed his wrath, while Jerry and his chums
walked about viewing the _Firefly_ from various sides.
It was a curious machine. There was a metal body or car, about as large
as a good-sized clothes basket. This contained a seat for the operator
and the motor for working the big wings. These latter were made of
sheets of tin, riveted to long skeleton frames of iron. The wings,
of which there were four, two on a side, were shaped like those of a
butterfly. They worked up and down by means of wheels and pistons,
operated by the gasolene motor.
There was a tail in the rear, set like that on a fish, and it could be
moved from side to side, presumably to steer the machine, by means of
cords, levers and pulleys. The whole affair looked quite heavy, for it
was all made of metal. Too heavy, indeed, to fly, as many observers
commented, yet from what Noddy had said he evidently expected to make
it sail through the air, carrying himself or some other venturesome
person.
That the _Firefly_ was not destined for long flights was evident from
the contracted space of the car. There was barely room for the operator
and the motor, and no supplies for a long trip could be carried.
“Well,” remarked Jerry, when he and his chums had spent some time
examining the metal “fly,” during which interim Noddy had not shown
himself, “well, that’s a queer arrangement, sure enough. I want to see
it in motion.”
“Oh, you’ll see it, all right,” declared a young man, whom Noddy had
evidently hired to help him. “Professor Nixon will make his first
flight Monday, the opening of the carnival. Professor Nixon will
challenge all the other inventors to a race.”
“Get on to that, would you?” whispered Ned to Bob. “‘Professor Nixon!’
Why doesn’t he change his name?”
“We’ll be here to see him fly on Monday,” added Jerry. “Come on,
fellows; I guess we’ve seen enough now.”
They left the tent, looking curiously as they went out for a sign of
Bill Berry. But that individual had evidently gone into hiding, and he
was replaced by another unprepossessing chap, who was selling tickets.
It was getting dusk now, and the crowds that had gathered to see the
carnival put in shape and the exhibits arranged were beginning to leave.
The boys went back to their hotel, and the next day they took a
pleasant auto ride in the suburbs of Broadlands, which was quite a
large city. They passed the carnival grounds, and saw that there was
little activity on them, few of the exhibitors caring to do any more
than was necessary on Sunday.
“They’ll not be in very good shape by to-morrow,” commented Ned. “Half
the things haven’t arrived yet, the hotel man told me.”
“Well, that’s always the way with these affairs,” said Jerry. “About
the end of the week things will be in better shape. But we’ll have a
good time, and we may get some ideas that will be of value to us.”
“Why, do you expect to have an airship?” asked Bob.
“We might,” answered Jerry slowly. “I don’t see why we couldn’t have
one. We made out all right with our auto and our motor boat. What’s the
matter with having a motor ship next?”
“Wait until we see how Noddy succeeds,” suggested Ned.
“Yes, I’m anxious to see him fly, though I know he’ll never do it in
that contraption,” declared Jerry.
The carnival was formally opened the next afternoon, though, as usual
with such affairs, not half the exhibits were in place. But addresses
were made, the history of aeronautics was rehearsed by several
speakers, others made great predictions for the future, and then it was
announced by the chairman of the committee in charge that some of the
inventors would try out their apparatus.
“One of the first to make an attempt to fly at this carnival will be
Professor Nixon,” went on the chairman. “In his machine, which he calls
the _Firefly_, he will endeavor, so he tells me, to make a complete
circuit of the grounds. If you will kindly give your attention to the
tent over which is flying the yellow flag you will soon see Professor
Nixon and his airship.”
The crowd, including the four boys from Cresville, hurried over to
Noddy’s tent. Now, if Noddy was at all bashful, or fearful that his
machine would not work, he did not show it. The front of the tent was
pulled to one side, and the curious _Firefly_ was revealed. Many thus
saw it for the first time.
“Professor Nixon asked me to announce that this machine is entirely his
own invention,” went on the chairman, “though he was obliged to hire
the most of the work done in a machine shop. He will now fly for us.”
“As long as he doesn’t fly toward us it’ll be all right, Professor,”
said a tall man in the crowd. “I wouldn’t want that to fall on me. It
must weigh several tons.”
There was a laugh at this.
“That’ll never fly,” was another comment.
“That’s a submarine--that ain’t an airship,” jeered a third.
“Let her go, Professor,” called a boy. “Better get a feather bed to
fall on, though. When you come down you’ll come down hard.”
“You people can make all the fun you want,” shouted Noddy, as he and
some men he had hired began to wheel the _Firefly_ out of the tent.
“But you’ll soon see something that will astonish you.”
The flying machine was wheeled out into the open. It rested on a small
truck, and Noddy presently busied himself about the motor.
“Go borrow a balloon somewhere, and maybe you’ll go up,” was a
suggestion from a red-haired man.
“You mind your own business!” fired back Noddy.
A fat man waddled through the crowd until he stood in the front rank,
close to the machine. The four boys were near him.
“Is that the _Firefly_?” the fat man asked of no one in particular.
“That’s what it is. It’s my machine,” replied Noddy proudly.
“What’s it for--plowing?”
“Plowing! This is an airship,” answered Noddy indignantly.
“An airship! Good land, that’ll never rise one inch off the earth.
It’s too heavy,” declared the fat man.
“Oh, it is, eh?” asked Noddy. “Maybe you know a lot about airships?”
“I do,” replied the man quietly. “I’ve made more than a hundred balloon
ascensions, and I tell you that your machine will never fly. What’s to
make it go up?”
“What makes a fly go up? The wings, of course.”
“Nonsense!” exclaimed the fat man.
“I’ll show you and all the rest of these knockers!” boasted Noddy.
“Not in a thousand years, the way you’ve got it built,” cried the fat
man very earnestly. “Look here; I’ll wager you a hundred dollars that
you don’t fly with it.”
“I’ll take you up!” retorted Noddy, pulling a big roll of bills from
his pocket. “I’m going to fly in about ten minutes.”
“That’s a go!” declared the fat person, pulling some money from his
pocket in turn. “Here, will you hold this?” he asked a man next to him,
and the man accepted the wager.
“I’ve made a hundred dollars easy,” commented the fleshy one to those
near him. “He’ll never fly.”
“Yes, I will,” asserted Noddy. “You watch me.”
He continued tinkering with his motor, and at last announced that he
was ready.
“Clear the track!” cried some of his helpers. “He has to have a
long start. Clear the track! Professor Nixon is going to fly in his
wonderful invention.”
“He’s going to fly toward the ground like a chunk of lead,” said the
fat man with a laugh.
“All ready?” asked Noddy to his principal assistant.
“All ready, Professor.”
“Let her go!” cried Noddy, cranking the motor, which soon began to make
a noise like a Gatling gun.