“HE’S A PUZZLE”
That afternoon, Bob Somers took his first lesson in aerial navigation,
his instructor being Ferd Ogden. The aviator explained the importance
of learning how to volplane.
“You see, Bob,” he said, “in case of any accident befalling the engine
your safety may depend upon landing at some particular point on the
ground, so the pupil must often make attempts to alight within certain
prescribed limits.”
The two had just made a short flight, and were standing near the
ranch-house in company with the other Ramblers and Cranny.
“That’s a point I have often thought about,” remarked the latter
loftily.
“Very good,” laughed Ferd. “I suppose, Bob, you have been trying to
study the effects of various air currents on the machine?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And I guess Dave has already written a treatise on the subject,”
grinned Dick.
Bob Somers had found that with the aeroplane under his own guidance,
and every movement, therefore, dependent upon the way in which he
manipulated the controlling levers, the sensation was entirely
different from that of being merely a passenger. But he quickly gained
confidence, and on the succeeding days gradually accustomed himself to
making short flights, always at low altitudes, and with Ferd seated
beside him.
“Nothing is apt to disturb one’s nerve so much as a serious mishap at
an early stage of the proceedings,” Ferd remarked. “Go slow is a good
motto for the beginner.”
Whatever misgivings the inventor and his sons may have had regarding
Bob’s venture into their chosen field soon vanished, for they quickly
realized that he was cool-headed and not disposed to be venturesome.
Cranny Beaumont’s great ambition to become an air-man, however, did not
meet with encouragement. Doctors and surgeons were not plentiful around
Border City, so the Ogdens firmly intimated that his talents might be
better turned into other channels.
“Cran” was disposed to sulk tremendously at first, and Willie said a
few things which caused the Ogdens to keep close around, for they were
kind-hearted men and greatly preferred that nothing should happen to
him. Ferd, then, good-naturedly humored the big lad by taking him on
several cross-country flights, and every one was able to breathe a
little easier.
Meanwhile the time for the aviators to leave was approaching. Each day
had found them hard at work in the machine shop, putting the finishing
touches on the “Ogden III.” Bob and the others were often able to
assist, and in this way the lad gained a practical knowledge of the
biplane’s construction and of the gasoline motor.
As Willie Sloan spent almost his entire time in the shop, Bob Somers
found many opportunities to study him closely. Both he and Dave Brandon
became convinced that Mr. Beaumont’s ward was a great deal sharper
than Cranny supposed. The latter never failed to laugh at Willie’s odd
questions, but the other two had a growing suspicion that even those
not intended to be humorous or irritating were, as Bob expressed it,
“Easy offerings to an apparently easy crowd.”
“Hoodwinkers,” added Dave.
“Nonsense!” roared Tom, upon hearing these observations. “He’s so
stupid that he even doesn’t know how to act sensibly. His thoughts
wander, and every once in a while a little puff escapes from the
safety-valve. If it wasn’t for that there would be an explosion big
enough to wreck the shop.”
Cranny roared again, and complimented Tom on his wisdom.
“No use to try and draw him out,” complained Dick. “He’s a puzzle to
me.”
“I know,” laughed Bob. “But Willie needs different treatment from most
boys.” Then, as Beaumont had walked away, he said, in a lower tone:
“Cranny couldn’t manage him in a hundred years.”
“Have you noticed how Willie acts in the shop?” asked Dave.
“Yes; and if it wasn’t for Mr. Ogden and his sons he’d be pokin’ his
face into everything,” said Dick. “They keep after him all the time to
keep him from meddling with things.”
“And that disturbs Willie, too; it isn’t necessary a bit.”
“No, it isn’t,” agreed Dave; “and I rather think----” The stout boy
paused.
“Think what?” asked Bob.
“That from the way Cranny and his father talked Willie knew well enough
they considered him stupid.”
“And upon certain natures----”
“Such a course has a bad effect,” interrupted Dave. “Encouragement does
wonders; tell a chap he’s doing well, and it often spurs him on to
greater efforts.”
“A little boost puts him on top of the fence,” grinned Dick.
“Now, as Mr. Beaumont was good enough to think we could liven up Willie
Sloan, it’s about time that something was done.”
“There’s a lot in a boy finding out what occupation he likes best,”
said Bob, thoughtfully.
Dave nodded.
“Willie certainly doesn’t seem to take any interest in business, art
or literature,” he remarked, “but when he gets around machinery I’ve
often noticed a change in him--a great change.”
“So have I,” said Bob.
“Let us try to find out if the lad has a mechanical turn of mind.”
“Goodness! You talk like two real old school-teachers,” grinned Dick.
“Wisdom and dignity go together.” Dave laughed, as he added: “Here he
comes now, with Cranny.”
The big lad was pushing the little one in through the doorway,
apparently because the latter didn’t move quite fast enough to suit him.
“Say, Somers, what do you think?” began Cranny; “Ferd says we may use
the ‘Ogden II’ while they’re away at Border City.”
“Oh, Cran Beaumont,” squeaked Willie; “you mean he said Bob Somers
could.”
“Well, that’s exactly the same thing. Won’t it be bully?”
“Jolly!” laughed Bob.
“And he says you’ve made good as an aviator to a surprising degree,”
added Willie. “Don’t look pale under forty-three feet, I suppose.
Cranny couldn’t----”
“Oh, it’s easy enough,” grumbled Cranny. “They must have some grudge
against me. In two lessons I’d have been soarin’ a mile high.”
“That’s an awful long distance to fall, isn’t it, Doctor Clifton?”
grinned Willie.
Tom stared hard, but made no reply.
“In a few days they are going to leave,” said Tim Lovell.
“And we’ll have to stay in this mean old farmhouse all by ourselves,”
grumbled Willie. “See here, Cran, when will you get started on your
job?”
“In just a few days, Willie.”
“Gee! A nice business man Mr. Beaumont sent out here. Mr. Ogden the
First is going to Border City to-morrow--says he’ll take me along.”
“What! In the aeroplane?” cried Cranny, in astonishment.
“Aeroplane nothing!”
“Afraid, eh?” grunted Tom.
“I saw the awful effect it had on Doctor Clifton. My, what paleness!
What wobbly legs!”
“Haven’t I gone up a lot of times?” snapped Tom. “You needn’t talk.”
“He takes you only about twenty-eight feet high. Yes, it’s true, Cran.
I’m going off in the wagon to-morrow morning.”
Mr. Ogden, soon appearing, verified this statement.
“Yes, boys,” he said; “some of our stuff has to be hauled over to
Border City.”
So, on the following morning, a vehicle which had belonged to the
former occupants of Lone Pine was loaded with tools and various parts
of motors. Willie clambered aboard; then Mr. Ogden took his place
behind a spirited pair of piebald ponies.
It was a blazing hot day, with only a few clouds floating in the
blue above. Scarcely a breath of air seemed stirring to relieve the
oppressive atmosphere.
The crowd found the cool interior of the ranch-house inviting, and soon
gathered in the big room down-stairs.
“I’ll bet when that little duffer gets back he’ll have an awful
grouch,” said Cranny.
“The worst ever, I s’pose,” came from Tom.
“He strings you a lot, eh, lad?”
Tom’s face darkened.
“But for you, Cranny, I’d have taught him a lesson before this,” he
exclaimed, grimly.
“Oh, goodness!” snickered Cranny; “that’s the second time. Fellows,
form an arbitration board, quick.”
“Some fireworks’ll start when Willie gets back,” predicted Sam Randall.
Toward evening Mr. Beaumont’s ward, hot, dusty and tired, returned. But
the expected “grouch” was lacking. Indeed, the boys had never seen him
in a better humor.
“Don’t you feel well?” asked Cranny, with apparent solicitude.
“Sure! Why, Cran?”
“Oh, nothing! What’s the news?”
“Say, Cran, I saw the balloon that goes up in the air.”
“You did? Why, that must be a new kind o’ a balloon!” laughed Cranny.
“Major What’s-his-name took me all through it.”
“An’ the gas didn’t even try to push you out?”
“Oh, quit joking, Cran Beaumont. It’s a perfect whopper. An
air-skimmer wouldn’t look much bigger’n a mosquito, alongside of it.
And say, what do you think?”
“Well?”
“Major What’s-his-name asked me if I’d like to go up some time; and I
said, ‘You bet! This thing is most large enough to take a chap to the
moon, isn’t it?’ You told me to ask--remember, Cran? Then he made this
remark: ‘On my next visit to the satellite I’ll take you along.’”
“Huh!” said Tom.
“Say, Cran, isn’t it awful odd we didn’t see in the papers that he’d
been up to the moon?”
“Humph!” came from Tom.
“What’s a satellite, Cran?”
“Get a book, and find out.”
“Ginger, but your ignorance is becoming monotonous.”
“I declare, I’ve got to get a look at that balloon, myself,” exclaimed
Cranny, with a great deal of emphasis. “To-morrow I’ll take a business
trip to Border City and look over the field.”
“A business trip!” scoffed Willie. “Take Doctor Clifton along. He’s
tall enough to look over several fields.”
“Who wants to go?” went on the big lad, paying no attention to this
flippancy.
“Count me in,” said Dick.
“And me, too,” chimed in Tim Lovell.
Accordingly, early on the following morning, the three rode over to
Border City. The business part of Cranny’s trip consisted mainly
in making a close inspection of Major Carroll’s dirigible balloon.
Afterward, Cranny and his friends rode straight to the Carroll Inn,
where the big lad wrote a letter to his father. It was chiefly
remarkable for the lack of information it contained, and ended with the
surprising statement: “A lot more facts in my next.”
“A few days at the ranch, an’ then I’ll begin work in real earnest,” he
announced to his companions.
“If you don’t, Willie may get ahead of you,” grinned Tim.
And this remark made Cranny laugh.
When the three reached Lone Pine again, they found that Bob Somers had
made his first unaccompanied ascent in the “Ogden II.”
“He’s almost a full-fledged aviator now,” commented Ferd. “I’m very
glad, boys, for day after to-morrow we leave Lone Pine in your care.”