BOB RUSSELL OF THE KANSAS CITY COMET
When the Overland reached Kansas City at nine o'clock the next
morning the air ship boys were just finishing an appetizing
breakfast of fruit, omelet, pancakes and coffee. The Placida, their
special car, came to a stop at the far end of the station train
shed, and, covered with dust as it was, and almost hidden among
hissing engines and baggage and express cars, there seemed little
reason for it to attract attention. Of course it was not ignored by
the railway officials. No sooner was the train at rest than the
depot master and the division superintendent were knocking at the
door. They had special orders concerning the car, and immediately
wheels and brakes were being tested and ice and water were being
taken aboard.
The railway officials made a quick inspection of the car, asked if
anything was needed, and were soon gone. A few minutes after they
had left a young man suddenly appeared, dodging among the cars. He
sprang on to the rear step of the Placida, but before he could enter
the car, the door of which had been left open by the departing
officials, the vigilant form of Elmer Grissom blocked his way.
"Who's in charge here?" demanded the stranger. "I'm a reporter and
want to see him in a hurry."
The railway officials had been admitted through the baggage portion
of the car, but Elmer knew that this way was not open to everyone.
He understood the need of secrecy, and politely forcing the reporter
out of the door on to the platform he led him to the front of the
car.
"If you'll give me yo' card," he then said with dignity, "I'll take
it in, sah."
As he was about to do so, Ned and Alan emerged from the car for a
few mouthfuls of fresh air.
"Hey!" exclaimed the impatient young man, "I'd like to see the man
in charge of this car. It's important and I'm in a hurry. I'm a
reporter for the Comet."
The boys smiled.
"We are in charge," answered Ned. "What can we do for you?"
The reporter seemed taken somewhat aback at seeing two youngsters
directing a special car. His bearing changed at once.
"I've been sent to get a story about where you are going and what
you are going to do," he said with a little more consideration;
"that is, if you care to tell."
Ned puckered up his lips and thought. He had met reporters before
and he knew what a "story" meant.
"I think we don't care to say," he replied in a moment. He did not
even care to say it was a secret. Even that admission, he knew,
would be a basis for something that might interfere with his plans.
"Our correspondent in Chicago says you left there last evening with
a carload of new and powerful explosives."
"Was such a story printed this morning?" asked Ned, eyeing the
reporter closely.
"I think not," said the reporter, "but we are an afternoon paper,
you know. We have a report that you are on your way to Mare Island,
California, and that you have a carload of explosives for the navy."
"Was such a story printed this morning?" repeated Ned, smiling
again.
"No, it wasn't. But it will be this afternoon," answered the young
man impatiently.
"If such a report had been known in Chicago last night," replied Ned
sharply, "it would have been in every newspaper in that city and
this city this morning. No correspondent sent you such a story.
You are a poor guesser."
The reporter was at least four years older than Ned and Alan.
Therefore, he gave a little start of surprise. He had been trapped
in a trick that he had often worked successfully on many an older
person. For Bob Russell, easily the brightest and quickest-witted
reporter in his city, thus to be turned down by two "kids" would
never do. Without wasting time to deny Ned's charge, he tried a
belligerent role.
"Do you deny you have newly invented ammunition in that car?" he
exclaimed brusquely.
"I deny nothing and refuse to be put in the attitude of doing so,"
calmly answered Ned. "Although it happens you are wrong again."
The young man laughed and again changed his tactics.
"Well, look here, boys, what's the use of getting mad about this?
You're working on something, just as I'm working on a newspaper.
You've got a good story somewhere about you and I'd like to have it.
What's the matter with being good fellows and loosening up?"
"Because it is purely a business matter in which the public would be
too much concerned if it knew what we were doing."
"Well, whatever it is, it's good--I know that," replied the young
journalist, laughing, "and I'm sorry I'm not in it with you--special
car--flowers--traveling like railroad presidents. I'm on. But,
say, when this thing breaks I'd like to be in on the yarn. I was
lying. I never heard of you before the train pulled in. But you
know the railroad people are on. They told me you had a black case
marked 'Explosive.' That's all I know. Say, couldn't you tell me
this--are you going through to the coast?"
Ned relented a little.
"Perhaps," he said smiling, "we might go to the coast."
"You might?" interrupted the reporter eagerly.
"Or we might stop in the mountains."
The reporter looked perplexed.
"Then you've got something to do with mining?" interrupted the
impulsive journalist, "and it isn't the navy yard. But you came
from Washington! I know that, you see."
"Yes," volunteered Ned, "but we might be from the Hydrographic
Office."
"Cloud breakers," quickly interrupted the reporter again. "How's
that for a guess? Are you rain makers?"
"What are they?" innocently asked Alan.
The reporter saw he was wrong.
"I give it up," he said shrugging his shoulders. "You are two wise
lads."
"Not wise," suggested Ned, "but attending strictly to our business."
"Right you are," answered the reporter.
"I've got to leave you to have a look through the train. Sorry I'm
not in on this. Where ever you're going, it looks good to me. When
you come back, don't forget me. Save the story for me, Bob Russell
of the Comet."
Handing his card to the boys with a cheery "So long!" he was gone.
The boys felt a little relieved. They had done what they could to
protect the interests of their patrons and themselves by keeping
their mission a strict secret. So far as Ned knew, the only persons
who had knowledge of what they were doing and where they were going
were his mother and sister, Alan's family, and Major Honeywell and
Senor Oje. Not even Elmer Grissom's parents knew where he was
bound--it was sufficient for them to know that he was with Ned. Of
course the railway people knew where the car was to stop. Beyond
these it was necessary for no one else to know what was being
done--not even the manufacturers who made the balloon, the engine and
their precious gas. But what the young air navigators desired and
what Bob Russell wanted were two different things.