BUNK JOINS THE PROFESSOR.
I fear that our glimpses of Bohunkus Johnson have been so vague that
you think it is time something more positive should be told. Let us
therefore give our attention to the colored youth and make clear
what befell him. It becomes necessary to go back to that day in
eastern Pennsylvania when he parted company with Harvey Hamilton. His
extraordinary experience was wholly due to the little tiff he had had
with the young aviator. How true it is that “great oaks from little
acorns grow.” But for that trifling affair I should have finished my
story long ago.
It is a hard thing to deal with a brilliant mind gone askew, especially
when the line between sanity and insanity becomes at times indistinct,
if it does not wholly disappear. Professor Milo Morgan was carried
away by his intense interest in aeronautics. You have learned of
the remarkable inventions he had already made in that field. He had
discovered how to make the flight of his machine noiseless, and could
remain in the air for ten or twelve hours. Not only that, but he had
succeeded in constructing a helicopter,--that is, an aeroplane that
will rise vertically by means of the horizontal screw or propeller
beneath.
Having achieved all this, he became absorbed in the scheme of remaining
aloft for two days at least. When he could do that he would be able,
while traveling at the rate of seventy-five miles an hour, to cross the
Atlantic between Quebec and Liverpool (2600 miles) in a trifle less
than a day and a half. That his ambition was not so mad as it may seem,
I may add that, while I am writing these lines, a professional aviator
has declared that he is certain of accomplishing the feat in the near
future. I venture to predict, that within the next three years the trip
will be made by more than one aviator.
The Professor was so rapt in his work that he thought of nothing else
and became indifferent toward every one. He cared nothing for Harvey
or Bunk or the great task of Detective Pendar. What he did by way of
aiding them may be called side issues. The chances came in his way and
he used them as he might have used a score of others of a different
nature, with no thought or interest or care in what should follow.
When the African youth came to him at the hotel in Chesterton and
asked the privilege of accompanying him to Africa, the proposal was
promptly accepted. It may have been that the crank took a liking to the
big, honest fellow, but it is more probable he saw that Bohunkus would
become more than a simple passenger. The man had felt the need of an
assistant,--not a negative person, but one who could help him in what
might be called the rough work he had in hand. It was physical, not
mental aid that he wanted while engaged in completing his experiments
with full success in sight.
The Professor inquired whether Bunk was at liberty to go with him on
the long aerial voyage. In other words must he have the permission of
young Hamilton?
“Huh!” sniffed the lad, in whose heart still rankled resentment because
of his late rebuke; “he hain’t got nuffin to do with me; I’m my own
boss and he knows better dan to put on airs with me.”
“That being the case I will take you, but it will be two or three days
before I shall be ready to start.”
“Dat don’ make no diff’rence, so you starts _some_ time. I can wait, I
reckons, till yo’ am suited.”
“And you may have some hard work to perform in helping me.”
“I’m used to work; dat don’t scare me; jes’ tell me what yo’ want done
and I’ll doot.”
“I recall something about your father being a great chief in Africa.”
“Dat’s de fac’,” replied Bunk proudly; “he am de greatest chief in de
whole state; he’ll treat yo’ mighty well for fetching me ober to wisit
him.”
How Bohunkus first gained the belief that his parent belonged to the
native nobility of the Dark Continent is interesting of itself. When
he was very small he was brought to Mr. Cecil Hartley, the well-to-do
farmer who was a neighbor of Mr. Hamilton near Mootsport, by an aged
negro who had been a slave in the South. He said the father of the
urchin was the great chief Bohunkus Foozleum, who was at the head of
a clan numbering thousands of warriors in Central Africa. The old man
added that the Christian name of Bunk was Johnson, which, if a fact,
is rather hard to understand. However, Bunk was turned over to the
kind-hearted farmer and his wife, and was known as a bound boy, though
the transfer was not accompanied by the usual legal steps.
The yarn of the old negro was repeated many times in the hearing of
Bunk, and the Hartleys and Hamiltons often laughed over it. The
gravity they assumed when telling the story to Bunk naturally caused
him to believe it, and again naturally he formed the resolution that
whenever a chance offered he would visit that hazy country and make a
call upon his royal parent. Hence his quickness to seize what looked
like a golden opportunity.
“You must understand one thing from the start,” said the Professor
impressively.
“Yas, sir.”
“If you enter my service there will be no turning back,--you must go
with me to the end.”
“Dat soots me from de sole ob my head to de crown ob my foot. I doan’
keer if I neber come back; being chief among dem folks am a good deal
better dan being lambasted and aboosed by white folks.”
“How long will it take you to get ready?”
“’Bout four seconds; all I’ve got to git am my coat and a few little
tings dat am in my room up-stairs.”
“Get them then.”
Bunk sprang to his feet and was hurrying through the door of the hotel
when the Professor called him back.
“You mustn’t tell anyone of this, especially young Hamilton.”
“How am I gwine to tell him when he ain’t here to tell? We’ll be half
way to Afriky afore he comes back.”
“You mustn’t write any letter and leave it here for him.”
“Neber thought ob doing dat,” replied Bunk, as he dived from sight and
went up the stairs three steps at a time.
It was just there that Professor Morgan made his first mistake. It
was true, as Bunk said, that he had no thought of leaving any message
for his young friend, but since he had been forbidden to do so, the
temptation to disobey was irresistible. Temporary resentment could not
quench his affection for Harvey Hamilton.
“When he comes back and finds me gone, he’ll cry his eyes out; he’ll
butt his head agin de wall and call on de hotel to fall down and mash
him flat. Harv ain’t such a bad feller as some folks think.”
The result of all this was that Bunk wrote his farewell epistle in his
room and had no trouble in handing it to the landlord who, as we know,
carried out his wishes.
Now that the decision had been made, the colored youth was all
eagerness to start. He was in mortal fear that Harvey would return at
any moment. While Bunk was as resolute as ever he did not wish to come
to an open quarrel with Harvey Hamilton.
Not once did a thought enter his mind that the aviator’s brain was
muddled. He looked upon the strange person with awe and fear. While
he might disregard instructions when the eye of his master was not
upon him, nothing could have made him do so otherwise. The Professor’s
hypnotic power was complete. By fixing those piercing orbs upon the
negro, he could readily cast over him that strange spell which we
have all seen and which made the youth as putty in his hands. The man
did not call this ability into play, because the need had not as yet
appeared, but he knew it was at his command whenever he wished to use
it.
“We’re off for Afriky!” was the thrilling thought of Bunk, when he sat
back in his seat and with swelling heart looked out into the radiant
sky and the variegated landscape sweeping under him. Never was he so
proud and never did his heart swell with such abounding emotion.
“Won’t Harv feel sorry when he sees me coming back from my visit to the
great chief dat has de honor of being my fader? I’ll catch de biggest
elephant in Afriky as I promised Harv and hang him to de bottom of
dis machine so dat his legs will swing clear and he can see de country
below him. I can make room fur de giraf in dis seat alongside ob me,
and let his head stick frough de top where he can obsarbe eberyting
in front and back and at de side, and above and below. Gee! how he’ll
enjoy it.
“Chief Foozleum must be mighty rich. I’ll git him to gib me two or free
bushels ob diamonds and sew ’em all ober my clothes and hab a big one
on de end ob each foot.”
There was no end to the extravagant fancies that roved through the
brain of Bohunkus. He looked at that strange figure in front, always
sitting bolt upright with a hand loosely grasping a lever on each side,
while he stared straight ahead as if trying to peer beyond the range of
ordinary vision. For long intervals Bunk could not see the slightest
movement of limb or head. The linen duster was buttoned closely about
the gaunt form and as he sat on the lower end of the garment the keen
wind did not cause any flapping. By and by there would be a slight
twitch of one of the levers and a change in direction would follow,
though otherwise it would not have been noticeable. Since the air was
calm, a keen breeze was produced by the progress of the helicopter,
which was traveling fully a mile a minute. Bunk had donned his heavy
coat before starting and was glad he did so, for he had to rub his ears
to keep them warm.
As was his custom the aviator flew low, sometimes approaching within
a hundred feet of the tops of the trees or the tall buildings in the
towns over which he skimmed. Bunk was startled once or twice by fear of
a collision, but the Professor was not only a marvelous expert, but his
machine responded with quick sensitiveness. At the slightest move of
hand or foot it would turn to one side, dart upward or dive downward,
as he willed. After a time Bunk’s misgiving left him and his confidence
in the man became perfect.
The aerial voyage to the southern Adirondacks was so similar in most
respects to what has been described that we need not dwell upon it. The
Professor did not stop on the way, and when he reached his workshop
the fluid in the tank would have taken him back without halt to his
starting point. He believed he could keep aloft with undiminished
speed for twenty hours if not longer, but it would not answer to head
eastward over the Atlantic until able to do better than that. He had
set the limit at two days, for he was wise enough to give himself a
fair margin. It might become necessary to reduce his speed when over
mid-ocean, or some slight disarrangement of his machinery was possible,
though of the latter he felt little fear.
Upon the arrival of the couple at the workshop, Bunk was pleased to do
his first work for his master. He was told to run the monoplane into
the hangar which stood to one side and slightly to the rear of the more
important structure. He performed the task so deftly that the Professor
complimented him.
“I see that you may become quite valuable to me,” said he in his
sepulchral voice, after he had opened the door of the cabin and peeped
in. “Sit down on those steps while I have a few words with you.”
“Yas, sir,” responded Bunk as he obeyed him.
“How much wages do you think you ought to receive, Bohunkus?”
“Bress yo’ heart, Perfesser, I doan’ want no wages for what I does for
yo’; ain’t yo’ gwine to take me ’cross de Pacific Ocean?”
“Not the Pacific,--the Atlantic.”
“Dat’s what I meant; yo’s gwine to do a good deal moah fur me dan I am
fur yo’.”
“I don’t wish anyone to work for me without pay; suppose I give you ten
dollars a week and your keep.”
Bunk airily waved his hand and replied:
“Doan’ make no difference to me; if yo’s gwine to feel bad I’ll take
it, but,” he added with an inspiring thought, “it am on two conditions.”
“What are they?”
“Dat when we calls on Chief Foozleum I shall gib you a pocket full ob
diamonds so as to make it squar’.”
“I have no objection to that; what is the other condition?”
“Dat yo’ gib me plenty to eat.”
For the first and only time in his life, Bunk saw the grizzled whiskers
at the side of the Professor’s mouth twitch in a way that showed he was
smiling. It was only for an instant, however, when he was as grave as
before.
“Your terms are reasonable. I had forgotten about it’s being meal time.”
“I hadn’t,” said Bunk with a sigh.
“You may have noticed that we have landed not far from a town; it’s
name is Dawson; I am acquainted with the landlord and will go there for
supper. I shall bring back a good meal for you.”
“Ain’t yo’ gwine to take me along?” asked the surprised Bunk; “I can
carry de food a good deal better inside ob me dan yo’ can outside ob
yo’self.”
“I prefer that it should not be known for the present that you are with
me; I’ll walk to the hotel and I promise you not to keep you waiting
long.”
A few minutes later the Professor took his departure and did as he had
agreed.