WINNING AN AEROPLANE
"Well, I see that the boys have got you into this sheep stealing
mystery," began Mr. Phipps, when the glasses had been taken away.
"Another bunch of my sheep killed or ruined last night. It beats the
world what's happening to 'em."
"Fly said they found one of them lying down the road," said Herb.
"I looked him all over," spoke up Carlito, "and it looked to me like
something with big claws had been at him, but he was in such shape that
you couldn't tell for sure. Then there were a lot of magpies feeding on
him when I rode up and the claw marks might have been those of some bird
that had alighted on him after he was dead."
"Well, this thing has got to be stopped someway, somehow." Mr. Phipps
spoke with an emphasis that meant business. "Herb and I have been
talking it over all morning. He says yuh had an idea, Mr. Hawke, we
might chase the thing, whatever it is, with an aeroplane."
"I suggested that to the boys on the assumption that it was a bird,"
replied Mr. Hawke, noticing, with a twinkle in his eye, that the boys
were moving their chairs closer and listening with tense interest.
"We're sure it's a bird," chimed in the enthusiastic Fly. "We were hit
by it ourselves coming from Silver City--and that rancher was picked up
by it. What else could it be? You never see tracks."
"It must be something that flies, anyway," argued Dunk. "Everything
shows that."
"But how could you get around flying after it at night," objected Mr.
Phipps. "It never seems to come around in daytime."
"Oh, Mr. Hawke can fix that," exclaimed Herb confidently.
"With an equipment of acetylene lamps," assented Mr. Hawke. "They would
give all the light we would need."
"But you would probably have to shoot at him," protested Mr. Phipps. "I
don't see how that could be done."
"Carl's the best shot there ever was," assured Jerry. "He can shoot
anything. Even in the dark."
Mr. Phipps and the aviator smiled broadly at this.
"I should think if it were a bird," said the latter, leaning back in his
chair, "the thing would be to chase it to its haunt and trap it."
"That's not a bad idea," agreed Mr. Phipps. "With an aeroplane you could
follow it at its own speed."
"Of course, Mr. Phipps, an aeroplane would not be an inexpensive
proposition, and I do not say it would positively do the work, but the
boys are very much interested in aviation and I suggested that they
might help me build a biplane here which we could use in clearing up
this trouble."
"You mean, let us help in building it?" Herb leaned forward in his chair
while Tender Gray's eyes grew large with excitement.
"That was my thought."
"Dad, that'd be great," exclaimed Herb, his dark cheeks flooding with
deep-hued red. "Let's do it! You said I could have an aeroplane
sometime, anyway."
"I didn't expect to be taken so seriously," laughed Mr. Phipps
good-naturedly, though there was no finality in his tone.
During this conversation the boys had been suppressing their anxiety
with difficulty. Their eager, impulsive faces changed with every new
argument put forth, according to its effect on their project. Only
Carlito, the Indian, sat impassive and solemn. But he was paying strict
attention to all that was said.
"Hawke ain't talking hard enough," protested Fred in an undertone to
Jerry. But Jerry gave him a kick and his lips formed the admonition
"keep still."
"How much would the thing cost?" asked Mr. Phipps. Dunk gave Fly a punch
with his elbow and Fred hitched his chair closer.
"About a fourth the cost of a factory-built machine," answered Hawke.
"You see, I can buy the material at first cost. With the help of the
boys it can be built at the fort and I have an engine of my own which I
can furnish. Altogether, eight hundred dollars would see us through."
"Eight hundred dollars, eh?" Mr. Phipps seemed to be turning the matter
over in his mind.
"But you've lost a thousand dollars' worth of sheep already," urged
Herb, feeling that this was the time to press his strongest arguments.
"If it keeps on we won't have any sheep left. Besides, you know that the
ponies got frightened a little while ago and broke down part of the
corral. What if they'd all get out and run away? They're worth two
thousand dollars themselves. And gee whiz, Dad, think of what I'd learn
in helping to build an aeroplane. Just what I want."
Tender Gray gave Herb's arm a squeeze while the other boys regarded him
with grateful eyes.
"How long would it take to get this material?" asked Mr. Phipps, seeming
to disregard his son's remarks.
"About a week. I can get most of the stuff from Kansas City. The
northern spruce comes from Denver. I'd have to order the bamboo from a
New York house. My engine is at Fort Omaha."
"I suppose you would teach the boys how to run the machine," queried the
rancher, who appeared to have reached his decision and merely wished
further assurance.
"Oh, certainly, that is part of the plan," responded the aviator.
"Well then, go ahead and get things together as soon as you can. But I
guess a government aviator knows his business." Extending his cigar case
to Mr. Hawke, the southerner prepared for a leisurely smoke, as if,
having settled the question, he would worry no more about it. Mr. Hawke
settled back into the depths of his large wicker chair and lighted his
cigar.
The boys, however, did not take the matter so calmly. They broke into
excited yells of delight. Herb and Tender Gray did something like an
Indian war dance on the front steps. Fred was pummelling Jerry with a
will, and Dunk and Fly stood talking with bright eager faces, making
gestures with their hands and arms. The Indian, though he smiled with
satisfaction, sat quietly and looked on.
"Gee, Dad, you're a brick," exclaimed Herb, slapping his father
affectionately on the back.
"I like the enthusiasm of these boys," Hawke told Mr. Phipps, when Herb
had joined his companions. "In all my experience I never came across a
more promising bunch. There isn't a dullard in the lot."
"To tell you the truth," answered the rancher, after a long drag at his
Havana, and regarding with kindly eyes the group at the end of the
veranda, "the idea of showing them how to build the machine appeals to
me about as much as the bird--or man--hunt, although that is an
important factor of course. And I hope you may be able to land the
thief, whoever or whatever it is."
"Say, boys," he added, in a louder tone, "you'd better all stay for
dinner to-night, and we'll have a little moonlight party on the veranda
here--how about it, Mr. Hawke?"
"Sure--you'll stay, won't you, Hawke?" queried Jerry, while all the
others nodded their ready assent to the rancher's proposal. Hawke was
easily induced to fall in with the scheme.
"And by the way," continued Mr. Phipps, "why don't you take Hawke for a
scouting expedition up in the mountains to-morrow, while you're waiting
for your uniforms and the material?"
"We'd just been talking about that," assented Fly. "We thought mebbe
we'd find the place where the bird lives."
Mr. Phipps and the aviator smiled at this naive response.
"Carlito can take you," said the southerner, "and Herb wants to try out
a new gun he has. Suit you, Mr. Hawke?"
"I'm here on a vacation," responded the aviator. "And anything like that
sounds good to me."
After a while the boys grew more calm, and the party on the veranda
settled down to the quiet of the waning afternoon. Mr. Hawke and the
southerner found topics of conversation in politics, aeronautics and
affairs of the day. The boys separated into groups of two, some reading
or glancing over the illustrated magazines, others talking in low
voices, flipping penknives or whittling. At last the sun sank in a bed
of red, gold and purple behind the tallest mountain peak, lighting up
its snowy whiteness with vivid crimson and yellow, and deluging the sky
with beautifully mingled colors, which gradually trailed off at each
side into faint lavender.
"This is the country for sunsets," said Mr. Phipps, as they sat watching
the beautiful scene. "No king ever wore a more glorious crown than
nature places on that old mountain's brow every evening, shining with
colors as brilliant as the finest gems ever mined."
When the last soft light had dwindled, twilight quietly settled over the
scene, and the stars, like faint sparks of the sun's final salute,
gradually came out clearer against the growing darkness.
It seemed like an interruption when Hop Sing announced dinner, but his
voice broke the spell, and the boys resumed their noisy chatter as they
filed into the house.
"This is Thunder Bird roast lamb," announced Mr. Phipps, as he whetted
the carving knife. "The poor animal escaped the ravages of the destroyer
only to be seized by the cruel headsman and quartered for my pleasure."
The party had seated itself, with some commotion, around the great round
table. The spacious dining room was softly lighted with shaded lamps.
The snowy table cloth, shining glasses and silver, and a huge bunch of
white carnations made the tempting viands look even more appetizing.
There was no formality about the service. Mr. Phipps knew the capacity
of growing boys, and saw that they were helped to liberal quantities of
everything. Hop Sing was kept busy hopping from one side of the table to
the other. The young fellows were entirely at their ease, and did not
hesitate to ask for whatever they wanted, and as much as they desired.
"Hop Sing is some fine cook," said Fly, as the Chinaman good-naturedly
passed him his third helping of mashed potatoes.
The celestial grinned. "Melican show me," he said, pointing to the
rancher.
"Whoopee, what'll Hop say when he sees our aeroplane!" exclaimed Jerry,
and all the boys joined in the laugh that followed.
"He'll want to go to a Chinese heaven in a chop suey bowl sure," said
Herb. "He scrapes in front of his idol whenever he sees an automobile,
which isn't often in these parts."
The subject being thus introduced, considerable talk about the new
aeroplane ensued, and when, happy and satisfied, they all returned to
the veranda, they found Sing putting up the last Japanese lantern.
"Give us some coon songs, Dad," asked Herb, and instantly there was a
clamor from all directions.
"No--I don't do that any more," objected Mr. Phipps, but his misgivings
were overruled when Herb appeared with a banjo and guitar.
"Come on, let's give 'em 'Drag the Chariot,'" coaxed his son, strumming
on the guitar.
The boys, with Hawke, had gathered around the rancher and Herb
expectantly.
"What's this yuh got me into, yuh young scalawag," exclaimed Mr. Phipps,
with mock anger, but he took the banjo and struck up a lively tune.
One song was followed by another, until the whole bunch of boys, unable
to sit still under the enchanting strains, had risen to their feet and
were performing jigs of one style or another. It was soon noticed that
Fred had some skill in this direction, and he was urged to jig "Turkey
in the Straw," and numerous other dances, until he sank down panting for
breath.
In the midst of their festivities there was a series of sharp barks in
the direction of the corral, and then a regular din of neighs from the
horses, violent barking from the dogs, and an occasional bleat.
Mr. Phipps threw his banjo aside and quickly ran down the steps in the
direction of the corral. The others followed him. They found the horses
greatly excited, running pell-mell around the enclosure, almost pushing
each other over, and some of them trying to climb up on the fence. The
dogs were baying, and running about in a confused fashion. Three sheep
had apparently strayed from the herd and were standing by the side of
the corral.
"It's that confounded thing again," exclaimed Mr. Phipps, calling to the
horses to quiet them, while Herb went inside and endeavored to calm
them. After a time the dogs, remembering their offices, got after the
sheep and drove them back to the fold.
"Doesn't look as though there's any damage done, but you'd better get
Mike to go down and look over the sheep."
As Herb went off on this errand, the others returned to the house.
"Bothering the horses too," said Hawke, when they had seated themselves.
"That looks bad."
"Must have been chasin' those three sheep," Mr. Phipps conjectured.
"I looked around, but couldn't see a sign of anything," said Carl.
When Herb came back, he said he had gone down to the sheepfold but, as
far as he could see, there was no further damage there.
After a little further conversation, Carlito and Herb went after the
ponies and led them up to the veranda. Somewhat subdued in spirit, and a
little disturbed, the party started off through the moonlight for the
Fort, after bidding a cordial good night to the hospitable rancher, his
son and Tender Gray.
"Hurry along with that aeroplane, boys," Mr. Phipps called after them,
and the boys cheered and waved their sombreros in reply.