CHAPTER VII.

A SENSATION FOR OLD HOME WEEK.

“Hurrah! Great news, lads!” shouted the colonel, as he waved a paper

over his head, when he could stop his forward movement for a second or

two.

“Oh, what if it is about father?” gasped Andy, turning pale, for the

unrevealed fate of the daring aviator had always borne heavily on

the poor lad’s mind, and in the silent watches of the night he often

allowed himself to think of the great joy that would come to him should

his parent ever be found again.

Frank turned to him quickly.

“Don’t allow yourself to think it can be that, Chum Andy,” he said,

softly, for he knew what the dream was that his cousin kept nurturing

deep down in his heart, and also how impossible of fulfillment it must

ever be; “I have an idea it’s only something connected with our little

adventure of last night. But here’s Colonel Josiah at hand and we shall

soon know the worst.”

“Bully news for you, my bold young aviators!” cried the old man as he

came hobbling along, his smooth face aglow and his long white hair

floating over his shoulders. “And I made ’em do it, too! When they

heard about that balloon dropping that message and how Bloomsbury was

destined to become famous as the center of aeronautic doings, they just

couldn’t hold back. And so they had the printer strike off fifty of

these circulars, and they’re going to be posted all around the county.”

“What did I tell you?” said Frank, smiling, but nevertheless he reached

for the paper the old man extended with a hand that shook a little.

“Why,” he said, “it’s issued by the Committee on Sports for the Old

Home week of this month, when they expect to have all sorts of athletic

stunts going on to interest the crowds of people who will flock to

Bloomsbury.”

“Just so,” observed the old man, with a broad smile. “And I finally

showed ’em what a tremendous thing it would be to have an aviation meet

at the same time.”

“An aviation meet!” ejaculated Andy, his eyes almost popping out of his

head with new interest.

“And we talked it over,” went on the old man, “with the result that a

prize is to be offered to any one who first plants an American flag on

Old Thunder Top, landing on the little plateau where the foot of man

has never yet trod, from an aeroplane built in Bloomsbury and piloted

by Bloomsbury boys!”

“Whoop! It’s great! And did you originate that clever stunt, Colonel

Josiah?” shouted Andy, wringing his guardian’s hand as though it were a

pump handle.

“To be sure I did,” replied the veteran, proudly. “I’ve had it in my

mind for some little time now, and what you told me this morning about

that other machine being constructed here just capped the climax, as

I may say. But she’s all fixed now, lads. The prize is to be a silver

cup. And unless I miss my guess, that trophy is bound to be kept in the

Bird family, to be handed down to future generations of bird boys.”

He did not mention the fact, but Frank suspected it on the spot and

afterwards discovered it to be true, that his money had gone to

purchase the said trophy and have it suitably engraved.

“When is this great day to be?” demanded the excited Andy, leaning

over, the better to scan the little poster that told in as few words as

possible what the several conditions of the contest would be.

“July fourteenth, and at two p. m. the word will be given to go,”

replied Frank.

“Whew! That gives us a scant five days to get ready and one of them

Sunday, too, when there’s nothing doing. Can we get the machine in trim

and master her by that time, Frank?” asked his cousin, anxiously.

“We certainly can and will!” came the steady reply from the boy who

believed in his own powers to accomplish things. “Besides, you must

remember that our only competitors are likely to be Puss Carberry

and his crony Sandy, who know far less than we do about running an

aeroplane.”

“That’s right,” agreed Andy, his confidence returning again, as

it always did after being bolstered up by his chum’s unwavering

determination and faith. “With only those two against us seems to me we

ought to have a walk-over.”

“Now, don’t jump to the other extreme and underrate the enemy,” warned

Frank. “You know that’s always a dangerous business. Besides, Percy has

a certain amount of perseverance and cunning that often carries him

along. He’s in dead earnest about this aviation business and bent on

making a success of it. I never knew him to show so much interest in

anything before. And it strikes me as funny, now that I look back, how

neither of us ever suspected that he was up to beating us at our own

game. He’s a sly one, all right.”

“Yes,” Andy went on, “and we might still be as much in the dark as ever

if it hadn’t been for my silly blunder in starting to open his package

of freight, without examining the tag first. That gave the secret away

and put us on to their slick game.”

“Perhaps,” replied his cousin; “not that it would make much difference

in the end, though, for they couldn’t have kept their secret much

longer. But I’m going over to town now and see if that canvas has

arrived at Spencer’s Emporium.”

“This time,” said Andy, “my wheel ought to hold out, for you put the

plug in yourself, and I humbly confess that I’m far from a success as a

mechanic. My jobs look well, but hang the luck, they don’t just seem to

hold good.”

Frank was quickly off. He never felt so happy before in all his life.

Everything seemed to be as fine as the weather. Their little monoplane

was about ready for its trial spin, once they fastened the new canvas

to the planes. There was this competition, which pleased him more than

words could tell. And then the indefinite future beckoned beyond,

holding all sorts of wonderful possibilities for a couple of bold

spirits, fully devoted to solving the secrets of the upper air.

“I only hope the weather is just like this on that same Old Home day,”

he was saying to himself, as he pushed on the pedals and went spinning

along the road to town. “Not a breath of air stirring around and just

a few clouds lazily floating up yonder above the crown of Old Thunder

Top.”

He turned to cast a glance toward the peak that hung over the waters of

peaceful Lake Sunrise, and memory carried him back to several occasions

when he had been baffled in trying to scale the upper tier of frowning

cliffs, that up to now had made the top of the peak inaccessible to

climbers.

It was a positive fact that so far as was known to the oldest

inhabitant of Bloomsbury no one had ever attained that summit, though

many had tried. The upper cliffs made a complete circle around the

crown and were something like eighty feet in height.

It had long been the one desire of Frank’s boyish heart to find out

some method of surmounting the difficulties that had thus far debarred

any one from planting a flag up on that lofty summit.

And to think that the idea had also come to Old Colonel Josiah, who

possibly in his younger years may have climbed the Matterhorn or scaled

some of those awful peaks in the northern Himalayas.

It would indeed be a proud day for Frank if he were ever allowed to put

foot on that elevated plateau of solid rock, up to now only the lonely

eyrie for the eagles that sailed through the blue vault of heaven.

And strangely enough at about that same moment Andy was standing

outside the shed that sheltered the idol of their hopes, with his eyes

also glued upon the indistinct crown of Old Thunder Top.

In imagination doubtless the sanguine bird-boy was seeing their

monoplane gently dropping like a feather on that hitherto inaccessible

rocky fortress, soon to yield its secrets to modern, up-to-date methods

of exploration.

And again would the honored name which his late father bore be crowned

with a measure of success.

“I’d just be as happy as a clam at high tide,” muttered Andy, “if it

wasn’t for that measly monkey wrench getting away from me. Never had

such a sad thing happen. And just when I had saved enough money to get

out a patent, too. But, as Frank says, there’s no use crying over

spilt milk. I can make another model if given time. And then who knows

but what it might pop up again in some unexpected place. Sometimes I

am a bit careless, I admit. But better that than to believe it went in

that mud to land in China, as Larry Geohegan said.”

From the contemplation of the mountain peak he allowed his thoughts to

slip off to that other subject which was never long out of his mind.

“If we can drop down on that plateau so easy,” he said to himself,

Colonel Josiah having betaken himself back to the house and his book,

“what’s to hinder our scouring the whole range of the Andes in the hope

of finding some trace of any one who might have been lost there? I

haven’t said much to Frank about that, but it’s the dream of my life.

If I only could know how he died--oh, if I could only learn where his

poor body lies! That uncertainty is what hangs like a load on my soul.

But some day, please Heaven, I mean to go down there were he was last

seen and devote my whole energies to solving the riddle.”

When Frank came back, which was shortly, he found his cousin tinkering

at the planes and getting the last remnant of old canvas off in

readiness for the new material soon to be fastened there.

“I see you got it all right, Frank,” remarked Andy, cheerily, for it

was not in his nature to remain for any length of time in the dumps.

“Yes, it came in yesterday after all. But then we haven’t really lost

any time, you know. And by tomorrow morning I calculate we’ll be in

good trim to make the first real test of our ship in her natural

element, the air. I tell you, Andy, the prospect looks mighty good to

me.”

“And to me,” promptly said the one addressed. “Given two days to make

little flights around our field here, and we ought to be able to rise

to higher things.”

“Well, I learned something just now that rather took my breath away,”

Frank went on saying.

“What was that?” asked the other, curiously.

“You remember that Puss was off somewhere a week ago. I heard that he

was down in the city, but no one knew what for. And now it develops

that he spent two days around the aviation field over on Long Island,

watching the way they ran the aeroplanes. And it is said that he went

up several times with Curtiss in one of his biplanes, so as to learn

how to handle the wheel!”

“You don’t say?” ejaculated Andy, his eyebrows denoting the most

intense astonishment. “Well, in that case he has got the bulge on us,

for a fact. Why, if he had such an experienced aviator for a teacher

Puss must be in the swim right now. And we’ve just got to dig for all

we’re worth to get on even terms with him.”

“Don’t worry,” said Frank, composedly. “In the first place I don’t

believe the story. If he went up with any one it was a man less famous

than Curtiss, who certainly wouldn’t bother taking a boy up with him

while exhibiting his machine and what tricks it could do. Even if Puss

did go up, that doesn’t make him an aviator. We’re going to learn our

little lesson by slow degrees and without the help of any outsider,

too.”

They were soon busily employed in cutting out the wings and starting

to secure them to the planes. It was a particular job, for upon those

essential parts of the monoplane almost as much depended as on the

engine itself. If the latter broke down while in flight or stopped

while “banking” the aeronaut could save himself by volplaning down

toward the earth; but should his planes suddenly give way, he would

drop like a plummet!

Frank was a cautious lad, who never forgot that a chain is only as

strong as its weakest link. And he would certainly omit nothing that

could add to the safety of himself and his chum.

They had just concluded it must be time for dinner, when Andy, who had

started for the house to wash up and be the first to partake, uttered a

loud cry that brought his companion hurriedly forth.

“I guess it’s all true, Frank,” the other was crying, as he pointed

his finger at some unwieldy object that seemed to be moving unsteadily

along just over the tops of the trees where the balloon had vanished;

“because there’s Puss and Sandy in their new biplane, starting out to

make their first little flight. Oh, my! look at that dip, would you? I

thought it was going to smash that time, but they lifted her all right.

You see, Frank, they’ve got us beat a mile in being first afloat!”

The Bird boys · 第 7 / 23 章