ADRIFT
Every one well acquainted with Major Warfield Carroll recognized in
him a man of rather eccentric ways and ideas--one of those who is
apt to take likes and dislikes without apparent cause. And yet his
friends generally found in the end that the stubborn, combative, even
hot-headed Major, in nearly all cases, had very good reasons for his
actions. He possessed an intuitive knowledge of human nature, and, as a
matter of course, was an excellent judge of character. Those fortunate
enough to gain his favor found in him a real friend, one who, so long
as they proved themselves worthy, was glad to advance their interests.
Early one evening, while he and the three Ogdens were studying over
some blue-prints in a little office at one corner of the hangar,
a small lad, hot, dusty and tired, walked boldly in, despite the
commands of Walters to “make himself scarce.”
“Oh, goodness, Mr. Ogden,” he said, wearily, “but maybe I’m not tired.”
“Willie Sloan!” cried the inventor, in great surprise, while his sons
looked at the boy as if not quite sure that they saw aright.
“Yes; it’s William Brinton Sloan, P. G. S.,” said Willie, with a faint
grin.
“What in the world are you doing here? Where are the others? Major
Carroll, this is one of the lads I spoke about.”
The financier’s sharp eyes were fixed full upon him. Willie stared
earnestly back. His half-shy and half-impudent manner, somehow, seemed
to catch the Major’s fancy; but the latter’s tone was stern, as he said:
“What have you to say, in answer to Mr. Ogden’s question?”
“A whole lot--near enough to fill a book,” gulped Willie. “I couldn’t
stand that old farmhouse any longer, so I--I--just lit out, and----”
“Do you mean to say that you actually walked here?” demanded Rob Ogden.
“Yes; and it was something awful. I never knew there were so many cows
in the world. And say, it was hot enough out there to bake a pie.”
A twinkle of amusement shone in the eyes of several.
“How did you find your way?” asked Major Carroll.
“I struck out on a bee-line for the railroad, and followed the tracks
right into town.”
“But you might soon have become used to Lone Pine, and enjoyed the
experience.”
“Not in a thousand years,” protested Willie, earnestly. “I don’t want
to ride a broncho; I don’t want to go up in that air-skimmer. When the
machine shop was closed, that settled it.”
“Otherwise, I fear, the machine shop would have been settled,” laughed
Rob.
“Are you, then, interested in tools and machinery, my lad?” asked the
Major.
“Am I--am I!--Well, you just bet I am!” exclaimed Willie, sinking down
on a stool. “I could live all my life in a workshop.”
The financier became interested.
“Tell me something about yourself,” he said. His usually brusque
manner softened. “No--on reflection, I think we had better postpone
that for a while. Ferd, if you are going over to the Carroll, take him
along. Let him have everything he wants.” He turned away. “Now, Ogden,
as I was saying, the idiot who drew this plan ought to be drummed out
of town; he----”
Willie, quite startled by the sudden change in the Major’s voice, was
glad to follow Ferd outside.
At the Carroll Inn, he was assigned to a pleasant room. After a good
wash and a bountiful meal he felt decidedly unlike the lad who had
walked across the prairie.
A little later on, Major Carroll listened to Willie Sloan’s history
of his life from the time he was five years old up to the present.
He also learned that, above all things, Mr. Beaumont’s ward disliked
typewriting and office work.
At intervals the financier smiled and nodded.
Then Willie, encouraged by his manner, spoke earnestly about Cranny’s
mission to Border City; he said it would be a most dreadful shame if
Mr. Beaumont wasn’t supplied with all possible information. He also
said several things which would have made Cranny highly indignant had
he heard them.
Major Carroll toyed with his watch fob, smiled, and reflected. Being at
the very head of the progressive movement, he was, naturally, inclined
to offer Mr. Beaumont every encouragement.
“I’ll see that you get all the particulars,” he remarked, briskly. “We
are going to have a great town here in a few years. There are splendid
opportunities for safe investment. To-morrow, I shall find time to put
you on the right track.”
The Major, in his enthusiasm, seemed to disregard the fact that his
hearer was merely a boy.
A strange expression began to creep over Willie Sloan’s face. He had
generally found himself treated as a person of small importance, and
the Major’s tone and manner touched a chord in his nature which had
seldom, if ever, been played upon. He brightened up perceptibly.
“And I’ll write to my guardian,” he declared energetically. “I’ll make
Cran and old Doctor Clifton sit up and take notice.”
“Doctor Clifton?” queried Major Carroll.
“He’s a huge six-footer,” said Willie.
“Keeping a friendly eye on you youngsters, I suppose?”
“Perhaps he thinks he is,” chuckled the boy.
“Won’t he object to your staying at Border City?”
“No indeed!” answered Mr. Beaumont’s ward, ending his words with a
peculiar little gasp.
If some of Major Carroll’s intimate friends had been at Border City
for the next few days they might have noted another evidence of his
eccentricity--he allowed Willie to amuse himself as much as he pleased
in the hangar.
“Any lad who takes so great an interest in mechanics as he does should
be encouraged,” he declared to Mr. Ogden, Senior.
Willie began to lose his habitual air of discontent; he became active,
going errands for the Major with eagerness and a desire to please which
would have made Mr. Beaumont open his eyes with astonishment.
The days which followed were pleasant ones to the lad. Even Kindale
admitted that he had a decided aptitude for machinery. The Ogdens,
however, believing that it was only a passing fancy, smiled indulgently.
One afternoon the mechanics, and several assistants requisitioned from
a crowd which usually lounged about the hangar, began to haul forth the
great balloon.
A cheer came from the crowd when the cigar-shaped air-ship, weighted
with bags of sand, and held captive by means of ropes, rested outside
the building.
Willie pleaded earnestly to be allowed to ascend.
“But won’t you be afraid?” asked the Major.
“No indeed! It isn’t like an air-skimmer; there’s a solid floor to
stand on.”
“There is only a moderate breeze blowing,” explained the Major. “I have
been waiting for just such a day as this--neither absolutely calm nor
too windy; and, incidentally, I wish to experiment with a new steering
gear. I suppose there is no harm in your going. Come along.”
He stepped quickly up the gangplank, with Willie at his heels. Kindale
had already taken a stand by the engine.
“We won’t be long, Ogden!” called the Major, presently. “Let go, men!”
Slowly and majestically the “Border City” began to rise.
This time Willie experienced no feeling of nervousness or fear as he
saw the ground being rapidly left behind. Viewed from the cozy interior
of the car, it seemed to be a perfectly safe proceeding, although, at
first, the decided tilt of the balloon made his footing rather insecure.
When the “Border City” came to an even keel again the hangar was far
below.
“We have reached an altitude of about a thousand feet,” explained Major
Carroll, who was at the wheel.
“If the balloon goes much higher it’ll be cloud-scrapin’,” murmured
Willie. Then he added, to himself: “After this, those dubs at Lone Pine
won’t think I’m afraid of everything.”
Entranced by the view, he gazed earnestly out of the mica-covered
window. The town lay off to one side, a scattered group of houses on
the dark, loam-covered prairie.
The balloon answered to the slightest movement of the helm, forcing its
way against the wind, or rising and descending when the levers which
controlled the balancing device were operated.
“It’s simply stunning!” cried Willie. “Please don’t sail back just yet,
Major Carroll.”
“We’ll take a short trip across the prairie,” replied the aeronaut,
with a smile.
As they rose still higher a stronger current of air was encountered.
The engine pounding away at full speed, and the steady wind, now at
its back, sent the “Border City” through the air with a rapid but easy
gliding motion.
Before the hills which cut across the prairie were reached Major
Carroll sought a lower level, piloted his air-ship about, and she was
presently beating a passage slowly back to Border City.
He hovered over the town long enough to perform several evolutions
which highly amazed the entire population.
Suddenly the throbbing of the engine ceased.
Major Carroll turned and gazed sharply along the length of the car;
then, as the sound did not begin anew, he roared:
“What’s the matter, Kindale?”
“I’m trying to find out, sir!”
With an exclamation of impatience, Major Carroll immediately began to
lash the wheel fast.
“Hang the thing!” exclaimed the engineer, as he walked up. “This is
certainly exasperating, eh, Major?”
“You ought to have the engine working in a few minutes, Kindale.”
“I hope so, sir.”
Together, they proceeded to examine the engine, battery and wires,
while Willie, deeply interested, looked on. It soon became apparent
that the trouble lay with the electrical apparatus, which failed
to ignite the explosive mixture within the cylinders of the motor.
Occasionally the spark gave an encouraging indication of resuming work;
but that was all.
Half an hour passed. Border City, left further and further behind,
became a curious-shaped mass of grayish white against the gloomy waste
of plain.
The engineer tinkered; the Major tinkered; and, doubtless, Willie would
have tinkered had there been a chance. But their efforts continued to
be unavailing.
“Oh, goodness! Is there any danger of us staying up here forever?”
piped Willie.
“Depends upon three things, son--the engine, the wind, and Major
Carroll,” answered Kindale, gruffly.
The financier squared his jaw.
“I don’t want to lose any of the gas, except as a last resort,
Kindale,” he said, emphatically. “We had trouble enough getting the bag
in its present fine condition.”
“The wind ain’t goin’ down none, sir.”
“All the more reason for making every effort to avoid descending. A
landing would be difficult, and might have disastrous consequences to
the balloon.”
“You’re right, sir.”
“And even at the worst we can float in safety until the wind simmers
down.”
“How about the mountains?”
“We can easily rise high enough to cross them. Beyond, according to my
maps, is a great stretch of plain. By George, it will be time enough to
crawl when we reach it.”
“It’s certain there ain’t no danger, Major,” said Kindale. Then, as the
financier walked impatiently away, he added, in an aside to Willie:
“That’s him--don’t never know when he’s beat, an’ never will. Likely as
not we’ll sail around the whole earth.”
Although the aeronauts continued to make every effort to get the
“Border City” under control, it drifted on and on, while the wind
gradually increased in force.
The pursuit of the biplane highly exasperated the financier.
“I admire the courage of those lads,” he stormed, “but it’s absolutely
foolhardy, as well as useless. But for the rugged foot-hills below us,
I’d descend right now, rather than have them run any further risks.”
“It’s the plains, or nothing, now, for the ‘Border City,’” said
Kindale, dryly.
Occasionally Willie lent his small stock of strength in aiding the men
to empty heavy bags of sand. As they rose higher, the immense panorama
outstretched before his eyes gave him a peculiar feeling of awe.
The biplane finally approached, but Kindale, still struggling hard with
the refractory batteries, made no effort to see it.
Major Carroll’s hailing of Bob Somers and the sight of the “Ogden
II,” flying like an enormous bird so close at hand, seemed more like
a strange dream than reality to Willie Sloan. So did the remarkable
actions of the eagle.
The change in the wind upset all of the Major’s calculations. The two
men talked together in low tones, for neither wished to alarm the lad;
but each realized that unless it veered back to its original direction,
they might find themselves, before very long, placed in a position of
great danger.
“Those daring youngsters on the aeroplane worry me, too,” confessed the
Major.
“I wouldn’t bother about ’em,” advised Kindale. “They’ve got nerve
enough to get the best o’ a hurricane o’ flyin’ cats. What I don’t like
is that white-bearded peak which seems to be stickin’ up there jist
a-purpose to git us. Never could see no good in mountains, anyhow.”
Willie Sloan began to feel badly frightened. The stormy waste of clouds
seemed to be close overhead. He watched them flying along, expecting
every minute to see their ragged edges flung off into pelting drops of
rain--the prelude to a steady downpour.
“My, those mountains look simply terrible,” he muttered. “And whew, but
it’s awful cold.”
He pulled his coat collar closely about his neck, and, shivering with
the chill air and anxiety, walked toward the engine.
“I don’t know what’s to be done, Major,” he heard the engineer confess.
“Then we’re bound to cut off the top o’ that mountain, eh, mister?”
piped Willie, still more excited and alarmed.
Without waiting for a reply, the lad walked quickly to the forward end
of the car. He was only dimly conscious of the fact that the “Ogden II”
continued to stand by them.
The “Border City,” at a high altitude, was now over the mountain crests
and approaching the grim-looking peak which dominated them all. Its
summit pierced the lowest strata of clouds and disappeared from view.
The dark, ominous aspect of nature increased; the forests and crags
were almost swallowed up in the dense, gloomy atmosphere.
He hurried back, and found Major Carroll and his engineer paying out a
rope through an opening in the bottom of the car.
“It’s the anchor,” explained the Major. “Don’t be alarmed, my boy; it
ought to stop us.”
Willie Sloan walked to the rail and deliberately looked downward. At
any other time, he might not have been able to view the immense void
beneath without being overpowered by a feeling of dizziness, but now
his gaze was almost steady. It rested upon the anchor dangling nearer
and nearer the earth. The iron seemed almost touching, yet it was still
being lowered.
“Goodness! If it only catches in something and holds, won’t I be glad?”
murmured Willie.
He suddenly became aware of a damp, sticky feeling sweeping across his
face. He lifted his eyes, with a start of surprise, to see masses of
vapor swirling through the car.
“The clouds!” he cried, in an awe-struck voice.
The “Border City” was speedily enveloped from stem to stern; and the
mist rolled thicker and thicker, until everything beyond a few yards
became blotted out. The men, still engaged in lowering the anchor,
appeared as shadowy, gigantic figures.
“My; this is the worst yet!” Willie groaned.
He vainly tried to make out their position; but the veil seemed to have
become even more dense and impenetrable.
In another moment, he was almost jerked off his feet by the sudden
slowing up of the car.
“The anchor’s caught; eh, Major Carroll?” he cried, joyfully.
“So it would appear, son,” came a voice through the fog.
The “Border City,” swinging and wobbling, tugged hard on the cable.
Willie groped his way along, occasionally glancing over the rail,
without seeing anything, however, but the blanket of rolling mist.
Everything was enveloped in its chill and sticky grip; the ropes and
tubes dripped with moisture; it crept around his neck, and whirled
against his eyes and ears. The big hull assumed a spectral look, and
the gloom was like that of approaching night.
The shadowy figures were presently standing by his side, peering over
the rail.
“It’s gettin’ thicker, Major,” said Kindale.
“I think this cloud will soon pass by.” Major Carroll laid his hand
upon Willie’s shoulder. “Don’t be frightened, my lad,” he said.
“I am, though. Are we going to stay up here all day?”
“I hope not. Let’s get busy, Kindale.”
The men walked to the windlass around which the cable was wound.
Willie watched them, as they turned it slowly and laboriously. The
captive balloon strained hard on the rope, while the cold wind moaned
and whistled monotonously past.
“I see a hole in the clouds, sir!” yelled Willie, at length.
“Good!” grunted Kindale.
“How far down are you going?” asked Willie, anxiously.
“To within a short distance of the ground,” explained Major Carroll.
“The rest of the way we shall have to descend by means of a rope
ladder.”
“And what then?”
“We must get word to Border City. Perhaps, after all, our young friends
in the aeroplane may be able to render us a service.”
“The Ogdens will have to see that we get some batteries in the biggest
kind of a hurry,” supplemented Kindale.
“Sounds mighty easy,” muttered Willie, “but we may have the dickens of
a time climbing down the mountain. Besides, it’s an awful way back to
the prairie.”
The mist was beginning to open out. Willie’s eyes eagerly followed the
line of the cable through a rugged rift, to see it disappear in the
midst of a thick clump of trees. The openings became more numerous,
until, at last, the moisture-laden and dripping “Border City” was no
longer immersed in its vapor bath.
As Willie Sloan, much relieved, began walking toward the forward end,
a sudden jolt swung him against the rail. He uttered a startled
exclamation, and looked below.
“Oh, goodness--goodness!” he wailed, thoroughly alarmed. “The anchor
has torn loose.”
The balloon had, indeed, resumed its drift toward the mountain.
“It’s ketched onct; it’s likely to ketch ag’in,” cried Kindale,
encouragingly.
Willie breathlessly watched the anchor, seemingly but a tiny speck,
slipping and sliding over a bald ridge of rock. He braced himself and
held tight to the slanting rail. The feelings of a shipwrecked mariner,
who sees his vessel being borne through the surging waves toward a
line of foam-crested breakers, and destined to be pounded to pieces on
a rocky shore, took possession of him. His eyes were fixed, by turns,
upon a broad white surface towering high above them. At about their own
level, he saw bold reddish crags and steep slopes partly covered with
fir and pine.
“Can’t anything be done, Major Carroll?” he asked, despairingly.
“The anchor is our sole dependence,” answered the millionaire. Then,
as he noted the blank look which came over the boy’s face, he hastened
to add: “We are not in any danger. Keep cool, and trust to us.”
Several times the trailing anchor seemed on the point of arresting
their progress again; but just as Willie began to feel his hopes
revive, the tremendous strain on the cable tore it free, and each
minute the “Border City” was drifting nearer and nearer to the barrier.
The men stood by the lad, awaiting developments in silence.
“It’ll strike head-on, sir,” said Kindale, in a voice which reached
only the Major’s ears.
The rocks and trees stood out dark and grim amidst the somber,
sullen-looking landscape, but with a clearness which showed how near
they were. Willie watched in breathless suspense, while the air-ship
slowly swung about in the cross-currents of wind.
The expected moment soon arrived. He felt the car shiver and jar--the
“Border City” had struck.