“Ain’t you going to read it out, Andy?” asked Elephant, anxiously.
“Wait till he gets through, can’t you?” asked Larry, although he was
fairly trembling with eagerness to hear what the sending of that
glorious check could mean; when he looked at the small bit of paper
Frank was holding he almost held his breath with awe, for to tell
the truth Larry had never seen a check a quarter as large as that in
all his life.
Andy could not say a word when he finished reading. He seemed to be
fairly overpowered with emotion, and holding the letter out to
Frank, motioned that he should accommodate the other two.
And so Frank started in. The letter was written in a cramped hand,
as if uncle Jethro Witherspoon had rather lost the knack of using a
pen; but then Frank could wade through it, even if he did hesitate
here and there.
It started in after this fashion:
“My Dear Nephew, Andrew Bird:—I’ve been hearing a whole lot about
the way you and your cousin Frank are coming along with that
airship business, and your mother has got me worked up to pretty
nigh fever pitch about your precious doing. Now here I am, an old
and cranky bachelor, with a big and successful cattle ranch on my
hands, and no chick or child to cheer me up. I want you two boys
to pay me a long visit, and bring that wonder of an aeroplane
along with you. I sounded your mother some time back, without her
letting you know, and she was agreeable, if only it could be
arranged without interfering with your school duties. And here
today your good dad, the doctor, has wired me that he believes
there is going to be an extension of the vacation period for
another two months.
“Seems like things might be working to please a lonely old man out
this way. Now here’s a little check to cover expenses. If you need
any more draw on me to any amount. What’s money for anyway but to
give pleasure to somebody? Pack up that flying machine of yours,
and either tuck it under your arm or else ship it by the fastest
express you can get to receive it, regardless of cost.
“I’m not going to take no for an answer. I want you and that smart
cousin Frank down here to show some of my cow-punchers what’s
doing in the line of this flying business. But most of all I want
to see you. I’ve got your pictures before me as I write, and I’m
counting the days until you arrive, bag and baggage. Wire me on
receipt of this all about your plans and when you can start. If
you say you can’t come, I’m going up after you. I’m used to having
my own way, the boys down here will tell you. With lots of love,
believe me,
“Your affectionate uncle,
“Jethro Witherspoon.”
When Frank finished reading this remarkable letter, Larry gasped for
breath; while little Elephant stood on his hands and cracked his
heels together.
“That sure takes the cake, Andy, Frank!” he declared, when he had
once more resumed his customary position, with his head higher than
his heels. “And my stars! what a ge-lorious time you two will have
of it, away down in that desert corner of Arizona! Cowboys—bucking
bronchos—whirling ropes—branding cattle—the merry round-up—the
camp-outs on the plains, and all them stunts. Oh! what wouldn’t I
give to be going along with you, fellers?”
“It’s always better to be born lucky than rich; I’ve said that
before, and I’m ready to stick by it!” stoutly asserted Larry.
“Frank, can we go, do you think?” asked Andy, almost in a whisper,
as though he had hardly as yet recovered his breath, taken away at
the wonderful news contained in that letter which his cousin had
brought him.
“We’ll think it over and see,” replied the other, always avoiding
the rush tactics that Andy frequently displayed, and which made him
a valued member of the Bloomsbury High football eleven. “But I
rather guess it could be arranged, if my father is willing.”
“Huh! no danger of him saying no,” grunted Larry. “He ought to know
that you two boys can take care of yourselves anywhere on the face
of the earth. After you went down to Colombia in South America, and
figured out where he must have drifted to, when he lost control of
his balloon; afterwards rescuing him from that queer old valley
surrounded by the high cliffs, that made him a prisoner, the
Professor’d say yes if you wanted to try a trip to the moon. And
some of us’d believe you, if you said you’d been that far in your
airship, and shook hands with the Old Man up there.”
“But he wants us to take our aeroplane along, Frank; could we pack
that up and send it by express, do you think? Will they take
anything as big and cumbersome as that, in boxes or crates, by
express?” Andy went on, eagerly, as though in his mind the fact of
their going was already assured.
“I guess they’ll take anything short of a house!” declared Elephant.
“Even if it needs a special car to carry it along. If you sent the
thing by freight, chances are it’d be a whole month getting there.”
“And time counts with Uncle Jethro more than money does with most
men,” remarked Larry. “You see he wants to get you there with your
flier regardless of expense. Why, I’d wire him tonight, Andy, and
pack up in a couple of days. Elephant ’nd me’ll help out all we
can.”
“Well, I should say we’d thank you for the chance,” spoke up the
Small boy.
“It’s hard to believe we’ve got such a great chance to see something
of that country down there among the mountains and deserts and
plains of Arizona,” Andy went on to say, as though he wanted some
one to stick him with a pin, so as to find out whether he were
really awake, or only dreaming.
“And I never dreamed we’d have such a great opening to visit that
country,” the other Bird boy went on to say, while his face beamed
with delight which refused to be repressed. “That uncle of yours
must be a fine old chap, Andy. His letter is a peach, and I’m as
sure as anything we’ll like him from the word go. Think of his
throwing you a check for a thousand just like it might be thirty
cents; and telling you to draw on him to any amount. He must think
we’ll be wanting to charter a special train to take us and the
aeroplane along.”
“Chances are he’d stand for it,” ventured Larry. “Say, why didn’t
some rich old uncle of mine think of me, and send a little piece of
paper this way? I’ve got half a dozen wealthy ones, but they don’t
know I’m on the face of the earth.”
“Well,” said Elephant, “get busy then, and make the name of Geohegan
famous, and then they’ll all break their necks trying to get you to
let ’em adopt you. The trouble is, Larry, you hide your light under
a bushel too much. Fly high, like the Bird boys do, and everybody
’ll see what you are.”
The other gave a dismal groan.
“That’s just what ails me,” he complained, “I can’t fly at all. Why,
I get dizzy in a swing; and even when I go out on the lake, if she’s
the least bit rough, you’ll find me hangin’ over the side right
away, tryin’ to see how deep it is, and wonderin’ if drowning’d stop
my troubles easy like. I reckon I’ll just have to make up my mind
that if ever I set this old world afire, it’s got to be by doin’
some stupendous intellectual stunt. That seems to be my long hold,
just as eatin’s yours, Elephant.”
“Rats,” jeered the other, contemptuously, “as if you couldn’t stow
away twice as much as me any day you felt like it. I talk a heap
about the grub racket; but you can work them jaws of yours to beat
the band, Larry Geohegan.”
“Well, do we start off now, or fuss around and chatter like a lot of
monkeys?” demanded the party thus referred to by Elephant.
“What about your wheel, Andy; you don’t want to lug that along
through the timber by that snaky trail?” asked Frank.
“I had fixed all that in my mind as I pedalled,” was the reply. “You
know we have to pass the Fletcher place just above here, before we
strike off the road, and I can leave the bike there till we come out
this afternoon.”
“Sure thing!” commented Elephant, nodding his head sagely; just as
though when he approved of a suggestion it had the hall mark of
wisdom stamped on it.
“I’ve done that more’n once when I had my wheel along,” declared
Larry, bent on showing his chums that he could have an original idea
once in a while, even though fame had not picked him out for a
favorite.
“Did you bring a pole along for me, Frank?” asked Andy.
“Yes, and plenty of hooks, and lines, and sinkers, and what-not,”
replied the one addressed. “Elephant, here, says he’ll cut a pole
after we get on the ground; and the chances are he’ll be the
luckiest fisherman of the lot. Nearly always turns out that way, I
notice; for the fellow who just takes things as they come along gets
the biggest fish and the greatest number. Now, you see, I’ve got a
rod along, a real jointed split bamboo rod that was given to me last
Christmas by my guardian, old Colonel Whympers. I’m going to be the
toney angler, and try all sorts of stunts while the rest of you are
pulling in the fish. But to me a pound bass caught on light tackle
is better than one that weighs three times as heavy, if I have to
just yank him in with a pole, and a cord tied to the end—no reel, no
fine leader, only a hook in a bunch of wiggling worms, and a float
above the sinker.”
“Huh! you’re getting big notions, Frank,” grunted Larry. “Time was
when you seemed just as well pleased with one of these long cane
poles. I’m mighty much afraid you’re getting spoiled, my boy.”
“Well, if somebody made you a present of a beautiful jointed rod
like that, now, Larry——” began Andy.
“Ain’t no chance for that to happen; nobody ever thinks to remember
my birthday, ’cept you fellers; when you pound me nearly to death,
and then treat to the ice cream to make up for it,” Larry lamented,
dolefully.
“But supposing they did,” persisted Andy, who never liked to give up
anything on which he had started; “now, wouldn’t you want to get
acquainted with it; and if you caught a good fish that way, and felt
how he pulled, and saw the slender rod bend nearly double, wouldn’t
you want to try it again and again, honest Injun, Larry tell me?”
“Oh! I guess so, Andy,” answered the other, making a grimace, “but
there ain’t no such luck for me. I must a been born under an evil
star, my mom says, because I’m always bustin’ things at home. She
says it’s because I’m so clumsy; but I know better. Why, seems like
some things just fall over and smash, when I happen to look at ’em.”
“Then for goodness sake quit looking at me like that, Larry!”
exclaimed Elephant. “I ain’t got no hoops around me right now, and I
tell you I don’t want to bust any—not till after we’ve had that
bully old camp dinner today, anyhow. Just turn your eyes the other
way, thank you.”
Andy had meanwhile carefully placed the wonderful check inside the
envelope once more, and with a pin fastened the latter in his coat
pocket. It was Frank’s suggestion that he do this; for the latter
knew from experience that Andy could be a bit careless at times. And
the thought of losing that windfall, when so delightful a future
beckoned to them through its means, would be enough to give any boy
the heart-ache.
“All ready, boys?” asked Frank, presently, as he stooped and
carefully picked up the little covered case in which his fine rod
lay, each joint reposing in the groove that was made to hold it.
“Yep. Let me carry the poles, Larry. You’re always getting things
caught in the bushes and trees as we go along. Why, only the last
time we came fishin’ didn’t you hook me in the ear, and make me howl
like anything? You take care of that fryingpan, and the bundle of
grub. And walk ahead, so’s we c’n kinder keep an eye on you, please,
Larry.”
“Huh! think you’re smart to say that, don’t you, Elephant?” grunted
the other, but in spite of the fact that these two were usually in
some sort of a “spat,” they were really great friends, and ready to
do almost anything, one for the other.
So the four boys left the shelter of the fine old beech that stood
alongside the road, while its mates grew over on the other fence;
for strangely enough, Frank had noticed that beech trees like
company, and are rarely if ever, found alone.
They walked briskly along the road, with their backs turned in the
direction of the not far distant town. A little ways off they would
climb the fence, pass through a field, enter the woods, and by a
short-cut reach the fishing grounds much more easily than if they
had skirted the lake, and coming to the little river, followed up
its sinuous course.
Just as they came to the bend a short ways above, Larry, who was
ahead, happening to turn around in order to say something was seen
to stare, and then exclaim:
“Well, now, if that don’t beat anything going!”
Of course his strange words, together with the look on his face,
aroused the curiosity of the other three boys. They, too, turned
their heads, thinking in this fashion to discover what had given
Larry so great a shock; but so far as they could see, there was
nothing at all in sight.
“What was it?” demanded Andy.
“Did you see somebody?” demanded Elephant, getting his poles in
every sort of trouble, in his eagerness to learn what it was all
about back there.
“Yes, and what do you think, fellows, he just dropped down out of
the branches of that big birch tree, and hurried into the bushes
like fun. Take my word for it, he must a-been up there all the time
we was sittin’ talking; and if that’s so, he learned about Andy here
getting that letter and check from Uncle Jethro, ’way down in the
cow-puncher country.”
“But who in the mischief was it, Larry, did you know him?” persisted
Elephant.
“I should say yes; and who but that sneak of a Sandy Hollingshead,
the shadow that hangs around after Percy Carberry, and does most of
his mean work for him. And chances are, he’s makin’ for town right
now, to tell all he’s learned. Say, won’t your old rival, Percy, be
mad, though, when he hears of the luck that has come to the Bird
boys?”