SOME ADVENTURES BY THE WAY.
By noon his hunger was positively ravenous. Yet he did not like to
risk another rebuff by asking for something to eat at any of the
thrifty-looking farmhouses he passed.
Of course, Ned could have represented himself as one of Uncle Sam's
sailors, but it was, somehow, repugnant to him--the idea of asking for
food and urging, as an excuse for the petition, the uniform he was
entitled to wear and the flag he served under.
All at once as he rounded a turn in the road he came upon a scene that
quickened his hunger tenfold. A group of men, women and children were
bivouacked under a tree enjoying the shade, and were evidently about
to enjoy a picnic lunch. Two or three buggies, and an aged carry-all
stood near at hand. Ned, with averted gaze, was hurrying by, when a
voice hailed him.
"Hullo, there, shipmate!"
Ned turned quickly. It was a middle-aged man, with a sunburned face,
dressed in a prosperous farmer's best, who had hailed him.
"Sam Topping!" exclaimed Ned, genuinely pleased, "what are you doing
here?"
"Why, picnicking, as you see. But what on earth does all this mean?"
his eyes roamed over Ned's disreputable figure. "What has happened?
What are you tramping about in that rig for?"
Sam Topping had served on the _Manhattan_ during Ned's days as a raw
apprentice. He had retired, a short time before, on a well-earned
pension, and his savings had served to buy him a farm. Ned recalled now
having heard that Sam had settled down in that part of the country.
The lad colored as Sam put his question. He could feel the women and
children of the group looking curiously at him, while the men regarded
him with more frank curiosity. It was plain that they looked upon him
as a tramp or something of the kind. A traveling peddler, possibly.
As Sam seemed to be waiting for an answer to his question, Ned drew
him aside. He told him as much of his story as he thought advisable.
Sam was sympathetic. He invited Ned to lunch with them, and after the
lad had washed and made himself more presentable at a small stream, he
joined the party. They made him welcome, and no embarrassing questions
were asked. Sam had concocted a story to fit the case while Ned was at
his wayside ablutions. How good that food tasted to the half-famished
boy! He could not help thinking, in the midst of his enjoyment, of poor
Herc. He wondered sadly how his shipmate was faring.
With this came another thought. The safety of the fleet was imperilled.
Its salvation lay in his hands. He alone could give warning of the
danger that threatened from the anarchists. When he got an opportunity,
he questioned the friendly Sam.
"How far is it to Blackhaven?"
"Well, let's see," rejoined Sam thoughtfully, "it's about one hundred
miles to the closest point. But Blackhaven Bay, where the warships go,
is twenty miles from a railroad, and only a few fishing villages are on
its shores. It's a wild and desolate spot."
"I've got to get there," said Ned.
Sam looked at him as if doubtful that he was in his right mind.
"Get to Blackhaven!" he exclaimed. "What for?"
"To join my ship," explained Ned, not wishing to go into details
concerning the anarchists. Sam was a talkative person, and if all he
knew was noised abroad it might defeat the justice Ned was grimly
determined to visit on them.
Sam had already explained the occasion of the roadside picnic. The
party was composed of himself and several of his neighbors on their
way into Dundertown, about five miles off, to witness a performance
of the circus. Ned had already noted upon barns and outhouses as he
came along the gaudy colored posters announcing its arrival. They had
interested him particularly, as one flaming bill had set forth the
wonderful aerial feats of one Professor Luminetti, who was modestly
billed as "The King of the Air." The professor, it appeared, performed
his feats in an aeroplane of similar construction to the one which Ned
had been using.
"I'd like to see that chap," Ned had thought, as he regarded the
pictures.
"Tell you what you do, Ned, old shipmate," quoth Sam suddenly. "You
come into town with us and see the circus. There's a recruiting office
in Dundertown. You can go there afterward and tell them your story.
They'll probably advance you the money to get back to your ship."
Ned agreed that this would be a good idea. But he declined the circus
invitation. He was too anxious, for reasons of which we know, to rejoin
the fleet. The gravest danger threatened the flower of the American
navy, and, for all Ned knew, its fate depended on the speed with which
he could reach Blackhaven.
Soon afterward the farmers and their wives clambered into their rigs
and started driving toward town. Sam, who was unmarried, drove alone,
and Ned shared a seat in his buggy. It seemed to his tired frame and
blistered, worn feet, the most luxurious conveyance he had ever known.
Sam drove straight on to the circus lot. It presented a lively scene of
shifting color and action.
Bright flags, huge erections of lumping canvas, blaring brass bands
were everywhere. In front of the main tent a big crowd had gathered.
Sam and Ned were caught in a swirl of humanity and rushed toward it. By
a shifting of the crowd they soon found themselves in its midst. The
throng was grouped about an aeroplane, the motor of which was already
whirring and buzzing. By it stood a man in red tights, bright with
spangles. He was lecturing on the points of the machine, which formed
a "free attraction" to draw the crowds.
Ned smiled as he listened. The fellow evidently didn't know much about
his subject. But even at that, he knew more than his listeners, who
gazed on him, gaping and awestruck. It was the first time that most
of them had seen an aeroplane at close range. The sight seemed to
fascinate them.
"I will now make a short flight," announced the man as he finished, and
as he clambered into the seat, a regular "barker" began shouting at the
top of his voice:
"Lum-in-e-t-t-i! The King of the Ae-ar! See him in his unprecedented
frantic, furious, thrilling flight into space! Watch him soar toward
the haunt of the eagle bird and cloud-land! The sight of a century! The
wonder of the nations! Lumin-e-t-t-i! Luminett-i-i-i-i-i! The Ke-eng of
the Ae-ar!"
The crowd came running from all directions at the cry. It was soon
packed so densely about "The King of the Air" that Ned and Sam found
themselves almost within touching distance of the wing tips. All at
once Ned's trained eye noted something. A link in one of the drive
chains of the propellers was badly twisted.
Under a sudden strain it would be likely to snap.
He stepped forward and touched "The King of the Air" on the shoulder.
"Well," growled the King gruffly, "what's up?"
His gruffness was not unnatural. He saw in Ned only a rather
tattered-looking member of the crowd, and _not_ one of the most
competent airmen of the United States Navy.
"One of the links on your drive chain is twisted," said Ned; "I thought
I'd tell you."
"Oh, it is, is it?" brusquely rejoined the other; "since when have you
qualified as an expert?"
"It's dangerous," Ned warned him again in an earnest voice.
"Oh, mind your own business," was the impatient reply; "it's all right,
I guess. Anyhow, I'm not taking lessons from a Rube."
The crowd began to laugh and jeer. A big man in a loud check suit, and
with an aggressive black moustache, came bustling up.
"Now, then! Now, then!" he exclaimed truculently. "What's up here? What
do you want, young man?"
"This man's machine is not in a condition for a flight," exclaimed Ned
hotly.
"Oh, it isn't, eh?" he said sarcastically. "Well, I tell you what,
young man, you be off, or you'll be in no condition for a flight,
either, 'cause I'll have you locked up!"
"Ho! ho! ho!" roared the crowd.
"All right. If he's injured, it will be his own and your fault," said
Ned sharply.
Burning with mortification, he elbowed his way through the crowd to its
outskirts. As he reached them he heard a deep-throated murmur.
"He's off!"
"Hooray!" shouted the crowd, but in a jiffy their cheering changed to
a groan of dismay. There was a sharp crack like a pistol shot. The
twisted link had parted under the strain of the engine, as Ned knew it
would.
Luckily, the accident had happened just as the aeroplane began to move,
and no damage was done to machine or aviator. Waiting only to ascertain
this, Ned took his leave of Sam, and set out for the recruiting office
to tell his story.