Книга - Famous Flyers and Their Famous Flights

Famous Flyers and Their Famous Flights
Jack Wright




Wright Jack

Famous Flyers and Their Famous Flights





CHAPTER I – Exciting News


Bob Martin stood outside the large redbrick house and whistled. He whistled threenotes, a long and two short, which meantto Hal Gregg inside that Bob wanted tosee him, and to see him quickly. Somethingwas up. At least, that was what it shouldhave meant to Hal, but evidently it didn’t, because no answering whistle came out toBob, and no head appeared in any of thewindows.

Bob whistled again, this time a little moreshrilly, and he kept on whistling until apale, spectacled face appeared at an upstairswindow. The window was thrown open, and Bob shouted up before Hal Gregg hada chance to speak.

“Hey, what’s the idea of keeping mewaiting? Hurry up, come on down, I’vegot something great to tell you.”

“Hold your horses. I didn’t hear youwhistle at first. I was reading,” called downHal.

Bob snorted. “Put it away and hurry updown. Books can wait. You should hearthe news I’ve got to tell you.”

“The book’s swell,” said Hal. “It’s thatnew book on aviation I got for my birthday.Is your news more important than that?”

“You bet it is,” yelled Bob. “And if youaren’t down here in two seconds, I’m goingto keep it to myself. And won’t you besorry!”

Hal laughed. “I’ll be down in one second.I’m not going to have you knowinganything I don’t know. You’re too smartnow.” The dark head disappeared from thewindow, reappeared atop the narrow shouldersof its owner at the front door withina few seconds, bobbing about as he leapeddown the front steps two at a time. HalGregg joined his pal Bob under the mapletree on the Gregg front lawn.

The two boys made a strange contrast asthey flung themselves down in the shade ofthe tree. They were the same age, sixteen, with Hal having a little edge on his friend.But Bob could have passed for the otherboy’s big brother. He was a full head taller, his shoulders were broader, his complexionruddier. He was the typical outdoorboy, with tousled brown hair, a few unrulyfreckles, and a broad pleasant face. Hal Greggwas short and slight, with sloping narrowshoulders. His complexion was dark, andhis large, serious eyes were hidden behindshell-rimmed eye-glasses. Yet though theywere such a badly matched team, the twoboys were fast friends.

Their friendship had begun strangely. Inthe first place, they lived next door to eachother, on a quiet, shady side-street in thelarge city of Crowley. Bob had lived therefirst, while the red brick house next to hishad been empty for a long time. NobodyBob’s age had ever lived in that house, andhe had grown to look at it as an old fogeysort of a house, very dull, and fit only forgrownups. It didn’t seem as though youngpeople could ever live in it. So he’d beenpretty much excited when he found out thatthe house had been sold, and that a boy hisown age was going to move in.

But his first glimpse of Hal was a disappointedone. “Oh, golly, just my luck,”he said to his mother. “Somebody my ownage moves in next door at last, and lookwhat he turns out to be.”

Mrs. Martin had also caught a glimpseof Hal as he had got out of the automobilewith his mother, and entered the house. “Heseems to me to be a very nice boy,” she saidquietly.

“Nice! That’s just the point. He looksas though he’s so nice he’ll be as dull asditchwater. I’ll bet he’s the kind that can’ttell one airplane from another, and buyshis radio sets all made up, with twenty tubesand all kinds of gadgets. Lot of fun I’llhave with him!”

Mrs. Martin smiled and said nothing. Shewas a wise mother. She knew that if shepraised Hal too much he would seem justso much worse in her son’s eyes. So she resolvedto let him decide for himself, just asshe always let him decide, whether he wantedHal for a friend or not.

For several days Bob saw nothing of Hal, but one day, as he rode his bicycle up thedriveway that separated the two houses, heheard someone hail him. He looked overinto the Gregg yard and saw Hal there, stretched out in a steamer chair, an openbook in his lap. He looked very small andpuny. Bob got down from his bike. Hewas embarrassed. Hal hailed him again.“Come on over,” he called.

Bob got down and walked over to wherethe other boy was sitting. The meeting betweentwo strange boys is usually a hardone, with suspicion on both sides. But Halseemed surprisingly pleasant. “I’ve seen youriding around,” he said, “but I haven’t hada chance to call you before. I’m Hal Gregg.You’re Bob, aren’t you?”

“Sure,” grinned Bob. He was beginningto think that this Hal might not be sucha bad sort. “How did you know?”

“Oh, I’m a Sherlock Holmes. Anyway,I’ve heard your mother calling to you.And if she calls you ‘Bob,’ that must beyour name.”

Bob laughed, “You’re right, she oughtto know,” he said. But he didn’t knowwhat to say next. Hal filled in the gap.

“You go swimming a lot, and bicycling, don’t you?”

“Sure,” Bob replied. “That’s about all afellow likes to do in summer. Don’t youswim?”

Hal’s forehead wrinkled. “My motherdoesn’t like me to go swimming,” he said.“I’ve never had a bike, either. You see, mymother’s always afraid that something’ll happento me. She hasn’t got anybody butme, you know. I haven’t got a father, orany other family. I guess that’s what makesMother so anxious about me.”

“My mother never seems to worry verymuch about me,” said Bob. “At least, shenever shows it.”

Hal looked at Bob enviously. “You don’thave to be worried about,” he said. “You’reas husky as they come.”

Bob felt himself getting warm. Thiswasn’t the way for a fellow to talk. Allof his friends called each other “shrimp”or “sawed-off,” no matter how big and huskythey might be. None of them ever showedsuch poor taste as to compliment afellow. He guessed, and correctly, that Halhadn’t been with boys enough to learn theproper boy code of etiquette. But he justsaid, “Aw, I’m not so husky,” which wasthe proper answer to a compliment, anyway.

“You sure are,” said Hal. “You see, Iwas a sickly child, and had to be taken careof all the time. I’m all right now, but mymother doesn’t seem to realize it. She stilltreats me as though I was about to breakout with the measles any minute. I guessthat’s about all I used to do when I was akid.”

“With measles?” laughed Bob. “I thoughtthat you could get those only once.”

“Oh, if it wasn’t measles, then somethingelse. Anyway, here I am.”

Bob’s opinion of the boy had sunk lowerand lower. He saw that they weren’t goingto get on at all. Why, the boy was nothingbut a mollycoddle, and not much fun.“What do you do for fun?” he asked, curiously.

“Oh, I read a lot,” said Hal, picking upthe book in his lap.

Bob’s mind was now more firmly madeup. A fellow who spent all his timereading was no fun at all. And he needn’t thinkthat Bob was going to encourage any friendship, either. “What’s the book?” he asked.

“A biography,” said Hal.

“Biography!” thought Bob, but he lookedat the title. It was a life of AdmiralByrd.

Bob’s eyes lighted up. “Oh, say,” hesaid, “is that good?”

“It’s great,” said Hal. “You know, Iread every book on aviators that comes out.I’ve always wanted to be one – an aviator, you know.”

Bob sat up and took notice. “Gee, youhave? Why, so have I. My Uncle Bill’san aviator. You ought to know him. Hewas in the war. Joined when he was justeighteen. I’m going to be an aviator, too.”

“You are? Have you ever been up?”

“No,” said Bob, “but I’m going someday. Bill’s going to teach me how to pilota plane. He’s promised. He’s coming tovisit us some time and bring his own plane.Dad takes me out to the airport wheneverhe can, and we watch the planes. I’ve neverhad a chance to go up, though.”

Hal’s eyes clouded. “I hope you get tobe an aviator,” he said, “I don’t think thatI ever shall. My mother’d never allow meto go up.”

“Oh, sure, she would,” consoled Bob, “ifyou wanted to badly enough. Have youever built a plane? A model, I mean?”

“Have I? Dozens. One of them flew, too. You’ve got to come up to my workshopand see them,” said Hal eagerly. “Iread every new book that comes out. Ithink that airplanes are the greatest thingout.”

“You’ve got to see my models, too. Imade a Spirit of St. Louis the year that Lindyflew across the Atlantic. Of course itisn’t as good as my later ones. Say, we’regoing to have a swell time, aren’t we?” Atthat moment Bob knew that he and Halwere going to be good friends.

And good friends they were. There werea great many things about Hal that annoyedBob no end at first. Hal was, without adoubt, his mother’s boy. He was afraid ofthings – things that the fearless Bob took forgranted. He was afraid of the dark – afraidof getting his feet wet – afraid of stayingtoo late and worrying his mother. And thenhe was awkward. Bob tried gradually toinitiate him into masculine sports – but itirked him to watch Hal throw a ball like agirl, or swim like a splashing porpoise. Buthe had to admit that Hal tried. And whenhe got better at things, it was fun teachinghim. Bob felt years older than his pupil, and gradually came to take a protective attitudetoward him that amused his mother.

Mrs. Martin smiled one day when Bobcomplained about Hal’s awkwardness incatching a ball. “Well,” she said, “you maybe teaching Hal things, but he’s teaching you, too, and you should be grateful to him.”

“What’s he teaching me?” asked Bob, surprised.

“I notice, Bob, that you’re reading agreat deal more than you ever have. I thinkthat that’s Hal’s influence.”

“Oh, that,” said Bob, “why, we readthe lives of the famous flyers, that’s all. Why, that’s fun. That’s not reading.”

Mrs. Martin smiled again, and kept hercustomary silence.

The strange friendship, founded on thelove of airplanes, flourished. The boys werealways together, and had invented anelaborate system of signals to communicate witheach other at such times as they weren’t withone another. Two crossed flags meant“Come over at once.” One flag with a blackball on it meant “I can’t come over.” Theseflags, usually limp and bedraggled by theelements horrified the parents of both Boband Hal when they saw them hanging invarious intricate designs out of windows andon bushes and trees in the garden. But sincethey seemed necessary to the general schemeof things, they were allowed to go unmolested, even in the careful Gregg household.

The friendship had weathered a summer,a school year, and was now entering theboys’ summer vacation again. It was at thebeginning of this vacation that Bob whistledto Hal and called to him to come down tohear his wonderful news.

“Well,” said Hal, “spill the news.” Itmust be said of Hal that he tried even tomaster the language of the real boy in hiseducation as a good sport.

“Bill’s coming,” said Bob, trying to hidehis excitement, but not succeeding very well.

“What?” shouted Hal.

“Sure, Captain Bill’s coming to spend thesummer with us. He’s flying here in hisown plane.”

“Oh, golly,” said Hal, and could say nomore.

Captain Bill was the boys’ patron saint.It had been through his uncle Bill that BobMartin had developed his mania for flying.Captain Bill Hale was Bob’s mother’s youngestbrother, the adventurous member of thefamily, who had enlisted in the Canadianarmy when he was eighteen, at the outbreakof the war. When the United States joinedthe big battle, he had gone into her air corpsto become one of the army’s crack flyers, with plenty of enemy planes and blimps tohis credit. A crash had put him out of commissionat the end of the war, but had notdulled his ardor for flying. For years hehad flown his own plane both for commercialand private reasons.

As Bob’s hero, he had always written tothe boy, telling him of his adventures, encouraginghim in his desire to become an aviator.He had never found the time actuallyto visit for any length of time with his sisterand her family, but had dropped downfrom the sky on them suddenly and unexpectedlyevery so often.

But now, as Bob explained carefully toHal, he was coming for the whole summer, and was going to teach him, Bob, to fly.

“Oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy,” Bob chortled,“what a break! Captain Bill herefor months, with nothing to do but fly usaround.”

Hal did not seem to share his friend’s enthusiasm.“Fly us around? Not us, Bob, old boy – you. My mother will never letme go up.” Hal’s face clouded.

Bob slapped him on the back. “Oh, don’tyou worry. Your mother will let you fly.She’s let you do a lot of things with methat she never let you do before. We’ll gether to come around.”

But Hal looked dubious. “Not that, I’mafraid. She’s scared to death of planes, andgets pale if I even mention flying. Butthat’s all right. I’ll do my flying on theground. You and Bill will have a greattime.”

“Buck up,” said Bob. “Don’t cross yourbridges until you come to them. We’ll workon your mother until she thinks that flyingis the safest thing in the world. And it is, too. We’ll let Captain Bill talk to her. Hecan make anybody believe anything. He’llhave her so thoroughly convinced that she’llbe begging him to take you up in the air tosave your life. See if he doesn’t! Bill isgreat!”

Hal was visibly improved in spirits.“When’s Bill coming in?” he asked.

“Six tonight,” said Bob. “Down at theairport. Dad says that he’ll drive us bothout there so that we can meet Captain Bill, and drive him back. Gee, wouldn’t it begreat if he had an autogyro and could landin our back yard?”

“Maybe he’ll have one the next time hecomes. What kind of plane is he flying?”

“His new Lockheed. It’s a monoplane, hesays, and painted green, with a reddish nose.It’s green because his partner, Pat, wantedit green. Pat’s been his buddy since theywere over in France together, and anythingthat Pat says, goes. It’s got two cockpits, and dual controls. It’s just great for teachingbeginners. That means us, Hal, old boy.Listen, you’d better get ready. Dad will behome soon, and will want to start down forthe port. Say, does that sound like thunder?”

The boys listened. It did sound likethunder. In fact, it was thunder. “Golly,I hope it doesn’t storm. Mother won’t letme go if it rains.”

Bob laughed. “I wouldn’t worry aboutyou getting wet if it stormed,” he said.“What about Bill, right up in the clouds?Of course, he can climb over the storm if it’snot too bad. But you hurry anyhow. We’llprobably get started before it rains, anyway.”

At ten minutes to six Hal, Bob and Bob’sfather were parked at the airport, their necksstretched skyward, watching the darkening, clouded skies for the first hint of a greenmonoplane. No green monoplane did theysee. A few drops of rain splattered down, then a few more, and suddenly the outburstthat had been promising for hours poureddown. Bob’s father, with the aid of the twoboys, put up the windows of the car, andthey sat fairly snug while the rain teemeddown about them. The field was becomingsodden. Crashes of lightning and peals ofthunder seemed to flash and roll all aboutthem. All of the airplanes within easydistance of their home port had come winginghome like birds to an enormous nest. Thethree watchers scanned each carefully, butnone was the green Lockheed of Captain Bill.

The time passed slowly. Six-thirty; thenseven. Finally Mr. Martin decided that theycould wait no longer. “He’s probably landedsome place to wait for the storm to lift,”he said. “He can take a taxi over to thehouse when he gets in.”

Reluctant to leave, the boys neverthelessdecided that they really couldn’t wait allnight in the storm for Captain Bill, andso they started for home.

Very wet, and bedraggled, and very, very, hungry, they arrived. Hal’s mother was practicallyhysterical, met him at the door, anddrew him hastily into the house.

Mr. Martin and his son ran swiftly fromthe garage to the back door of their house, but were soaked before they got in. Enteringthe darkened kitchen, they could hearvoices inside.

“Doesn’t that sound like – why, it is – that’sBill’s voice,” shouted Bob. The lightswitched on, and Bill and Mrs. Martin cameinto the kitchen to greet their prodigal relatives.

“Hello,” said Bill, “where have you peoplebeen? You seem to be wet. Shake on it.”

“Well, how in the – how did you get in?”shouted Mr. Martin, pumping Bill’s hand.“We were waiting in the rain for you forhours.”

“I know,” said Bill, contritely, “we triedto get in touch with you, but we couldn’t.You see, I came in by train.”

“By train!” exclaimed Bob. “By train!”

“Why, sure,” laughed the Captain, “Why, aren’t you glad to see me without my plane?That’s a fine nephewly greeting!”

“Oh, gee, Bill, of course I’m glad to seeyou, but – well, I’ve sort of been countingon your bringing your plane.”

Bill laughed. “The plane’s coming allright,” he said. “We had a little accidentthe other day, and the wing needed repairing.I decided not to wait for it, but to comein on the train to be with you. So PatMcDermott is bringing the plane in in afew days. Is that all right? May I stay?”

“Yup, you can stay,” said Bob. “ButI want something to eat!”

“Everything’s ready,” said Mrs. Martin.“You change your clothes, and come rightdown to dinner.”

“Sure thing,” said Bob. But he did notchange immediately. He stopped first to puttwo crossed flags in the window, whichmeant to Hal, “Come right over.”




CHAPTER II – Captain Bill


Hal couldn’t come right over. He had tobe fussed over, steamed, dosed, and put tobed so that he would suffer no ill effectsfrom his soaking that evening. But he wasover bright and early the next morning. Ithad rained all night, and was still rainingin a quiet, steady downpour, when Hal appearedat the Martin home, dressed in rubbers, raincoat, muffler, and carrying an umbrellato protect him on his long trek fromhis own front door to his friend’s. CaptainBill would have been startled at the strangelybundled figure of Hal, but he had beenwarned, and greeted Hal without a blink ofan eyelash. In fact, as soon as Hal had beenunwrapped from his many coverings, andhad spoken to them all, Captain Bill discoveredthat he was probably going to likethis boy after all, and was pleased that hisnephew had such good judgment in choosinga friend and companion.

They talked that morning, of course, about airplanes, and the boys told how theyhad been reading about the famous flyers, and of their hopes to be flyers themselvessome day. Bill had been a good listener, andhad said very little, but after lunch Hal saidwhat had been on his chest for a long time.

“Captain Bill, we’ve been doing all thetalking. Why don’t you tell us a story?”

The Captain laughed. “I think that Bob’sheard all my stories. I’m afraid that they’rea little moth-eaten now. But how aboutthe two of you telling me a story? Someof the things that you’ve been reading socarefully. How about it?”

“We can’t tell a story the way you can, old scout,” said Bob. “Anyway, we askedyou first.”

“All right, I’m caught,” said the Captain.“But I’ll tell you a story only on one condition.Each of you has to tell one too.That’s only fair, isn’t it?”

Bob and Hal looked at each other. Halspoke. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to,” hesaid, blushing. “I can’t tell stories, I’m sureI can’t.”

Captain Bill knew that it would be tactlessat that moment to try to convince Halthat he could tell a story. It would only increasethe boy’s nervousness, and convincehim only more of the fact that he could notspin a yarn. So he said, “Well, we’ll tellours first, and you can tell yours later. Afteryou hear how bad ours are, you’ll be encouraged.”Then Bill had an idea. “Howabout having a contest?” he said. “The onewho tells the best story gets a prize.”

“What prize?” asked Bob quickly.

“Now, you take your time. We’ll decideon the prize later. We’ll have to let Patin on this, too, I suppose, but he’s going togive us some competition. Pat’s a great storyteller. I’ll tell my story first. Then Bob cantell his, after he’s had some time for preparation; then Pat will probably want to gethis licks in; and Hal will come last. He’llhave the benefit of our mistakes to guide him.How about it?”

“All right with me,” said Bob, eagerly.He was keen about the idea.

But Hal seemed less enthusiastic. His naturalreticence, he felt, would make it torturefor him to tell a story. It would be all rightjust for Bob – and he was even getting wellenough acquainted with Captain Bill totell his story in front of him – but this PatMcDermott – even his name sounded formidable.Captain Bill didn’t give him a chanceto say aye, yea, or nay, but went on talking.

“I think that we ought to choose subjectsthat you two know about,” said Bill. “Howabout stories of the aviators – of FamousFlyers and their Famous Flights?”

“Great!” said Bob. “Gee, I want Lindbergh.”

“Lindbergh you shall have,” said CaptainBill. “What’s yours Hal?”

“I don’t know,” said Hal. “I’ll have tothink it over. But – I think that I’d liketo take the life of Floyd Bennett – if I may.”

“Of course,” said Bill. “I think that I’lltell about Admiral Byrd – do you think he’dmake a good story?”

“Marvelous!” said Bob, with his usual enthusiasm.“What’ll we leave for Pat?”

“Pat can take whomever he wants to take,”the Captain said. “He’ll have to take what’sleft. That’s what he gets for coming late.But what do you say we wait to start thecontest when Pat comes?”

“Yes, oh, yes, I think that that would bemuch better,” said Hal, relieved that the ordealwould at least be postponed, even if itcould not be avoided altogether. “I thinkthat we ought to wait until Mr. McDermottcomes.”

The Captain laughed. “Don’t let him hearyou call him ‘Mr. McDermott’” he said.“He’s Pat to everybody, and to you, too.”

“I’ll try to remember,” said Hal, miserably, thinking of what a complicated worldthis was.

It was still raining outside. The boys andthe Captain, seated in the library, or rather, sprawled in the library, could see the streamsof rain splash against the windows and rundown in little rivers until they splashed offagain at the bottom of the pane.

Captain Bill yawned and stretched. “Notmuch to do on a day like this. I’m mightyanxious to get out to the airport as soonas it clears up. What’ll we do?”

Bob had an idea. “Couldn’t we sort ofsneak one over on Pat?” he said. “Couldn’twe have a story, one not in the contest, now?It wouldn’t count, really, and it would giveus a little rehearsal before Pat gets here.”

“Who’s going to tell this story?” askedCaptain Bill, looking just a bit suspiciouslyat his nephew.

Bob grinned. “Well, I thought that maybeyou would. Seeing that you’re the beststory-teller anyway.”

“Go long with your blarney. But I guessI will tell you one. It will be a sort of prologueto the rest of our stories. It’s aboutthe very first flyers and the very first famousflight.”

“The Wrights?” asked Hal.

“The Wrights,” said the Captain. “Wilburand Orville, and their first flight at KittyHawk, North Carolina.”




CHAPTER III – The Wright Brothers


The Captain had first to fill his pipe, andstretch his legs before he began his story.

“Of course,” he said, “we can’t really saythat the Wrights were the first men to fly,or to build a machine that would fly. Evenin the middle ages Leonardo da Vinci drewup plans for a flying machine. Just beforethe Wright’s experiment Langley had stayedup in the air in a machine invented andbuilt by himself. If he had not died at sounfortunate a period in his experimental life, perhaps he might have been the inventor ofthe airplane.

“The Wrights invented the airplane inthe same degree that Thomas Edisoninvented the electric light. Men had experimentedwith both inventions for many years.But it took the genius of the Wrights, thegenius of an Edison to bring together theseexperiments, to think through logically justwherein they were right and where they werewrong, and to add the brilliant deductionsthat brought their experiments to a practicaland successful end. Edison’s discovery wasdependent upon the finding of the properfilament for his bulb; the Wrights’ successhinged upon their discovery of the warpedwing, which gave them control over theirplane.

“The fact that the Wrights were not thefirst to fly does not detract from the thingthat they actually did. At the time thatthey were making their first flying machine, any man who tampered with the subject offlying through the air was looked upon ascrazy. And this was not more than a quarterof a century ago. Seems funny, doesn’tit? But they were not to be discouraged.They knew that they were right, and theywent ahead. They had many set-backs.Their planes were wrecked. What did theydo? They just built them over again, andwere glad that they had learned of some newdefect that they could re-design and correct.

“You notice that I always talk of ‘theWrights’ as though they were one person; everybody does. In fact, they almost wereone person. They were always together; lived together, played together, although theydidn’t play much, being a serious pair, andworked together. They never quarreled, nevershowed any jealousy of each other, neverclaimed the lion’s share of praise in the invention.They were just ‘the Wrights,’ quiet, retiring men, who did much and talked little.

“From early childhood it was the same.Wilbur Wright, the elder of the two, wasborn in Milville, Indiana, and lived thereuntil he was three years old with his parents,Milton Wright, bishop of the United BrethrenChurch, and Susan Katherine Wright. In1870 the family moved to Dayton, Ohio, and in 1871 Orville Wright was born. Froma very early age the two were drawn to eachother. Their minds and desires were similar.

“When Wilbur decided that he wouldrather go to work after being graduatedfrom High School, Orville decided that he, too, would give up his formal education, and devote himself to mechanics.

“They were born mechanics, always buildingminiature machines that actually worked.They did not stop studying, but took toreading scientific works that were of morehelp to them than formal education. In thisway they learned printing, and built themselvesa printing press out of odds and endsthat they assembled. On this they beganto publish a little newspaper, but they gavethis up when another opportunity presenteditself.

“Bicycles were coming in at that time, and the Wright brothers set up a little shopto repair them. From the repair shop theydeveloped a factory in which they manufacturedbicycles themselves. Their businesswas very successful, and they were lookedupon as young men who were likely to getalong in the world. This was in 1896.

“That year Otto Lilienthal, a famous Germanexperimenter, was killed in his glider, just at the peak of his career. Wilbur readan account of his death in the newspaper, and discussed it with his brother. The eventrenewed the interest that they had alwayshad in flying, and they set about studyingall of the books that they could find on theproblem of flight. They soon exhausted allthat they could get, and decided that theirgroundwork had been laid. From then ontheir work was practical, and they discoveredprinciples that had never been written, and which resulted in the first flight.

“The first things that they built were kites, and then gliders that were flown as kites.The Wrights were after the secret of thebirds’ flight, and felt that they could applyit to man’s flight. Their next step was theconstruction of a real glider. But the countryaround Dayton was not favorable forflying their craft. They wrote to the UnitedStates government to find a region that hadconditions favorable to their gliding. Thatis how the obscure Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, came to be the famous place that it is.It happened to have just south of it threehills, Kill Devil Hill, Little Hill, and WestHill. Between the hills was soft drifting sand, that would provide a better landing placethan hard earth in case of a spill. The windswere steady and moderate.

“To Kitty Hawk the Wrights went. Herethey glided to their heart’s content, untilthey decided that they had learned to controltheir flights, and were ready to build aplane with power. They went back to Daytonin 1902. They designed and supervisedthe building of the motor themselves, onethat would generate twelve horsepower. Satisfied, they set out once more for KittyHawk, with the motor and parts of theirplane carefully stowed away.

“They got down there in the early autumn, but found so many difficulties toovercome, that they could not make thefirst tests until December. In the first place, they discovered that a storm had blown awaythe building which they had built to workin when they first got to Kitty Hawk. However, everything was at last ready, the weatherfavorable, and the plane was hauled upKill Devil Hill, and guided toward the singletrack of planks that had been laid downthe hill.

“Who was going to get the first chanceto pilot the plane? Who was going to bethe first man to fly? Orville insisted thatWilbur be the one; Wilbur insisted thatOrville should be the first. They decided itby flipping a coin. Wilbur won. He gotinto the plane, unfastened the wire that heldthe plane to the track, and started down. Heended in a heap at the bottom of the hill, uninjured, but with several parts of the planedamaged.

“The Wrights were nothing daunted.They repaired the plane as quickly as possible, and on December 17, they were readyfor the second trial. It was Orville’s turn,of course. He unloosened the wire; the planestarted down the hill; at the end of a forty-footrun it rose into the air. It kept ongoing, in a bumpy, irregular course, nowswooping up, now diving down, for 120feet, then darted to earth. The flight hadtaken in all just twelve seconds, but theWrights had flown.

“I suppose you’ve seen pictures of thatfirst plane. It wasn’t much more than a boxin shape, a biplane, with no cockpit at all, just the wings held together by struts, anda seat in the center for the pilot. A man hadto be tough to fly one of those planes. Thewonder is that any of them escaped withtheir lives. They had to sit up there exposedto all the elements, and pilot the clumsyplanes. And yet they grew into skilfuland expert pilots, and could loop the loopand figure eight in them! The Wrightsthemselves were excellent flyers. This seemsonly natural, with their natural born giftfor mechanics. It was well that they weregood flyers, because it was up to them toprove to the world that their craft was safe, and practical.

“It was hard at first. People were skepticalas to whether the Wrights really had aship that flew. Some of their tests were unsuccessful, and they were laughed to scorn.However, France, who had been more advancedthan the United States in the matterof experimentation in flying, became interestedin the new flying machine, and sentrepresentatives over to the United States toinspect it. With the French approving ofit, the United States became more interested.The government offered a prize of $25,000, for anyone who would build a plane thatwould travel 40 miles an hour, carry enoughfuel and oil to cruise for 125 miles, andfly continuously for at least an hour, withtwo persons weighing together 350 pounds.The Wrights built such a machine, and thegovernment not only gave them the $25,000, but an additional $5,000 besides.

“In the meanwhile Wilbur Wright hadgone to France, where he participated inmany flights, and won the hearts of theFrench people by staying in the air for anhour and a half. At the end of the year,1908, he stayed in the air over two hours.

“The Wrights were showing what theycould do. Flying became the rage. Societytook it up, and traveled to the Wrights tosee their planes. But the Wrights, no moreimpressed by this than they were by anythingelse, kept right on working. Theywere financed by a group of able financiersin the United States, and founded the WrightAeroplane Company for the manufacture ofplanes, and they were content.

“After 1909, their point proved, theWrights did very little flying. They spenttheir time in engineering problems, makingimprovements on the planes that they weredesigning and manufacturing.

“They did some more experimenting withgliders, but this was in order to perfect theart of soaring.

“In May, 1912, Wilbur Wright died, andbroke up the famous partnership that hadexisted for so many years. Since his deathhis brother has lived quietly. He has notflown, and has acted as advisor to his companyas they turn out more and more modernplanes. He is one man who has lived to seea thing that he started himself grow intoa blessing to mankind. And if the airplaneisn’t that, I’d like to know what is.”

“I think so,” said Bob.

“Who are you to think so?” asked Bill, sitting up very suddenly.

Bob was non-plussed for a moment, butthen saw that his uncle was joking, andlaughed. They were interrupted by the ringingof the doorbell.

“Well,” said the Captain, “who could beout in weather like this?”

They heard the front door open, voices, and then the closing of the door. In a shortwhile the footsteps of Mrs. Martin soundedon the steps, and she entered the library.

“A telegram for you, Bill,” she said, andhanded it to him. “My, you three look cozyup here. I suppose you’ve been yarning, haven’t you?” She gave her brother a playfulpoke.

Captain Bill, who had risen when his sistercame in, offered his chair before he openedthe telegram. “Join us, won’t you, Sis?”

His sister laughed. “I really can’t go beforeI see what is in the telegram,” she said.“Of course, I suppose I should be polite andpretend not to be interested in it, but I am.We all are, aren’t we, boys?”

Bob and Hal grinned.

“Well, then,” said Bill, “I guess I’ll haveto see what’s in it.” He opened the telegram, and glanced hurriedly over it. “Pat’slanding tomorrow,” he said. “He wants usto be out at the airport to see the Mariannecome in.”

“Hurray!” shouted Bob, and went into awar dance.

His mother looked at him tolerantly. Shewas used to Bob’s antics. “What time isPat coming in?” she asked.

“He didn’t say. In fact, that’s all he didn’tsay in this telegram. But I guess he’llstart out about dawn and get here aroundnoon. Anyway, we’ll be going down to theairport tomorrow morning to look around.We’ll stay there until that Irishman rollsin.”

“What will you do about lunch?” askedthe practical Mrs. Martin.

“Why, we’ll eat at the airport restaurant,”said Bill. “Don’t worry about us, Sis.”

Mrs. Martin looked dubious. She glancedat Hal. She knew that Hal’s mother likedto supervise her son’s meals, and did notcare to have him eat at strange places. Mrs.Martin felt that it would be a shame to spoilthe expedition for such a trivial reason, soshe said, “I have an idea. I’ll pack a lunchfor all of you tonight, and you can take itwith you tomorrow. How will that be?You can eat it anyplace around the airport.It’ll be a regular picnic. There are some niceplaces around the port that you can go to.How about that?”

Bob answered for them. “That will begreat. Gee, Bill, do you remember the picnicbaskets that Mom can pack? We’re inluck.”

“Do I remember?” said Bill. “How couldI forget? You fellows had better be up prettyearly tomorrow.”

“You bet we will, Captain,” said Bob.

Then Hal said, “I guess I’d better be going.My mother will be wondering if I’mnever coming home. I hope that I can comewith you tomorrow.”

“Hope you can come with us? Why, ofcourse you’re coming with us. We won’t gowithout you,” Captain Bill said explosively.

“I’ll see,” said Hal. “I’ll ask Mother.Maybe she’ll let me go. But anyway, I’lllet you know. I’ll put up the flags in theworkshop window. All right?”

“Sure,” said Bob, and walked out withHal. He saw the boy to the door, andwarned him again to be sure to come.

When the two boys had left the room,Captain Bill turned to his sister. “Say,” hesaid, “do you think that Hal’s mother reallywon’t let him come, or is the boy lookingfor a way out?”

“Why, what do you mean?” asked Mrs.Martin.

“Just this,” said Bill, and puffed vigorouslyon his pipe. “I’ve been watching theboy, and I think that he’s afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid of actually going up in an airplane.I feel that a change has come overhim since there has been an actual chanceof his learning to fly,” explained the Captain.

His sister looked pensive. “But he’s alwaysbeen so interested in flying. That’sall the two of them ever talk about.”

“Perhaps. When there was no immediatechance of his going up in a plane. Now thatthere is, I think he’d like to back out.”

“There is his mother to consider, ofcourse,” said Mrs. Martin. “She would undoubtedlyobject very strenuously if hemerely went to the airport. You must rememberthat he’s all she has. She’s alwaysso careful of him.”

The Captain snorted. “Too careful,” hesaid. “She’s made the boy a bundle of fears.Bob has helped him get over some of them, but I think that they’re cropping out now.It will be very bad for Hal if he funks this.I think that it will hurt him a great deal.If he succeeds in overcoming his fears nowfor once and for all, if he learns to go upin a plane, even if he may never fly onehimself, he will be a new boy. He’ll neverbe afraid again. But one let-down now, andhe will be set way back – even further backthan when Bob first met him.”

“I think you’re right, Bill,” said hissister. “But what are we going to do aboutit?”

The Captain shrugged his shoulders. “Ithink the best thing to do with the boy isnot to let him know that we know he’safraid. Treat him just as if he were thebravest lad in the world. I’ll take careof that. But I can’t take care of his mother.I never was a lady’s man,” smiled CaptainBill. “You’ll have to attend to that.”

Mrs. Martin’s brow wrinkled. “I thinkyou’ve taken the easier task,” she said witha wry smile. “I’d much rather teach a boyto overcome his fears than teach a motherto overcome hers. But I’ll try,” she added, and hoped against hope for success.

Bob burst into the room. “How aboutsomething to eat?” he said. “I’m starved!”

“As usual,” said his mother. “I wouldlike to hear you just once complain aboutbeing not hungry.”

“All right, mother,” said Bob. “If youwant to hear me complain about that, youjust feed me a good dinner now, and I’ll domy best to complain about being not hungry – afterI finish it.”

“You’re an impossible son,” said his mother, but smiled fondly at him. She reallydidn’t believe it.




CHAPTER IV – Some War Heroes


Whether secret springs were put into operationby Mrs. Martin that afternoon ornot, nevertheless Hal was able to join theparty going to the airport early the nextmorning. It was a beautiful morning. Ithad stopped raining, and the sun, comingout strong and bright, had dried everythingso thoroughly that only an occasional puddlehere and there on the road showed thatit had rained at all. The drive to the portwas pleasant, too; the port being about amile out of town, and at least five milesfrom the Martin home.

When they arrived, the day’s program wasin full sway. A huge tri-motored plane wasloading passengers for a cross-country trip.As the three approached the port, they sawthe great plane rise into the air and take offexactly on schedule. Smaller planes wereflying about above the airport, and on theground mechanics were working over severalplanes that needed overhauling. Captain Billwanted to go first to the administrationbuilding, a large white brick structure, modernas any office building in appearance. Hewanted to see the head of the airport, anold friend of his, and make the final arrangementsfor the care of his plane whenit came in.

As they were about to enter the building,a tall, heavy-set man passed them, on hisway out. Captain Bill started, and halfturned. “Well, if that didn’t look like – ”he began, then turned and went on into thebuilding. “Looked like an old flying buddyof mine. But of course, it couldn’t be. OldHank never was that fat. Never had anounce of fat on him. All skin and bone.But you never can tell, eh, boys?”

“You’ll be getting there yourself, someday, be careful,” laughed Bob.

John Headlund, delighted to see CaptainBill, jumped up from his desk, and pumpedhis hands up and own. “If it isn’t theCaptain! Man, it’s great to see you again!”Headlund and Bill had flown together inFrance, and although they had kept in touchwith each other a few years after they hadreturned to America, the press of businesshad kept them apart, and they had not seeneach other for years. Captain Bill presentedthe boys.

“They’re going to bring new business foryou, Headlund,” said Bill. “Here are twoof America’s future flyers.”

The boys grinned.

Headlund, after wishing them success, turned again to Bill. “Do you see any ofthe old boys?” he asked.

“Pat McDermott’s my partner,” said Bill.“He’s flying the old boat in this afternoonsometime.”

“He is! That’s great! And quite a coincidence, too. Do you know who was here – left just before you came in?”

“Not Hank Brown!” shouted Bill. “Bygolly, I thought I recognized that face! OldHank! What was he doing here?”

“He’s got a ship down here in one of ourhangars. It’s a beauty – a four passengercabin plane, with the pilot’s seat up front – abeautiful job. Listen, Hank’s gone downto the hangar now to look it over. Maybeyou can catch him down there. It’s AvenueB, the last hangar in line.”

“Great. I’d like to see Hank. Last timeI saw him he was in an English hospital, eating porridge and not liking it at all. Whowould have thought that the old skinnymarink would have put on all that poundage?Old Hank fat! And flying in a cabinplane. Come on, fellows, we’ve got to godown there and see him.” He turned to Headlund.“I’m going to be in town all summer,Heady, and I guess you’ll be seeing plentyof me. What street did you say? AvenueB?”

Captain Bill and the boys hurried out, found the right road, and walked along ituntil they came to the last hangar. A beautifulplane, black and aluminum, stood outside.But as they approached, there was nobodyto be seen.

“Ahoy, there!” shouted Bill. “Anybodyhere know Hank Brown?”

Hank himself appeared from the other sideof the plane, where he had been conferringwith a mechanic. “I’m Henry Brown,” hesaid, peering from behind gold-rimmedglasses at Bill and the boys. His face registeredno sign of recognition at first. Thensuddenly it lighted up, he rushed forward, and gripped Captain Bill’s hand in his, slappinghim heartily on the back with the other.“Well, Bill! You old sock! Whereon earth did you come from? What are youdoing here? Where have you been?”

Bill, delighted to see his old buddy, laughedat him, and poked him in his now well-paddedribs. “One question at a time, Hank.What are you doing here? And how comeyou’ve got this grand ship?” asked Bill.

“I asked you first,” laughed Hank.

They spent the next ten minutes tellingeach other just what they had been doingsince their last meeting. They spared thedetails, but each was satisfied with the other’sstory. Hank had done well as the managerand later as president of his father’ssteel plant. Prosperity had ironed out thewrinkles that had always twinkled aroundhis steely grey eyes, and contentment hadadded inches to his waistline, but he wasstill the same generous, fun-loving Hankthat the boys had known in France.

“Listen,” said Hank. “Come on in andtry the plane. See how comfortable it is.Say, this is some different from the old rattletrapswe used to fly, isn’t it?”

“But we had some good thrills in them, didn’t we,” said Bill. This meeting withHank was bringing back memories that hadnot stirred in him for many years.

“Let’s get in here where we can talk incomfort,” said Hank.

They mounted a little step that the mechanicset for them, and entered the side doorof the plane. The inside was amazinglyluxurious. Along both sides were upholsteredseats, covered with multi-colored cushions.There were built-in fixtures, and everythingto make for the greatest ease in traveling.The pilot’s seat could be partitionedoff by a glass sliding door up front.

The three men sat down on the seats atthe side of the cabin. “Gee, they’re soft,”said Bob. “I could ride all day on these.”He jumped up and down a little.

“Remember your manners,” said Bill.

Bob stopped jumping and blushed. “Oh,I forgot,” he said. He had really forgottenthat Hank Brown was an important man,a millionaire. But Hank only laughed.

“How would you people like to take theplane up on its last ride this year?” he asked.

“The last ride?” said Bill. “Why thelast?”

“Well, I’m putting her away,” said Hank.“That’s what I was talking to the mechanicand Headlund about. I was going to spendmy summer up in my log cabin in Canada, fishing, and all that. But my wife wantsto go to Europe instead. She’s going totake the two girls over to France and leavethem there in school. That would meanshe’d have to come back all alone. I’ve beenintending to go back to take a look aroundever since I’ve been back in America, so Ithought I’d take the opportunity of gettingover there now with her. I wouldn’t takethe plane. I won’t need a big ship like this.If I want to fly I can pick up a little Frenchor German bus. So I’m putting old Lizziein the hangar. Seems a shame. But howwould you like to go up now? Would youlike to try her out?” he asked Bill.“Would I?” said Bill. He slid into thepilot’s seat, and looked over the instrumentboard, to familiarize himself with the instrumentswith which the plane was equipped.Then he turned back to the boys. “Wantto go up?”

Bob was almost beside himself with excitement.“Take her up, Bill go on,” hesquealed. “Sure we want to go up. Goahead, Bill.”

Hal said nothing. His face was pale. Billthought that it would be best to ignore him, and just take it for granted that he wantedto go up, too. And Hal, although he wasby this time frightened to death, would notadmit it. He decided to risk the going uprather than say that he was afraid.

The mechanic taxied the plane out intothe open and took away the steps. Billpressed the starter, and the great propellerbegan to move. Slowly the ship rolled overthe ground, gradually gaming momentum.Finally it rose into the air. Bill handledthe huge ship as though it were a toy. Higherand higher it rose. Bob, looking out ofthe window, saw the building of the airportwhizzing by below them, thendisappear into a whirling mass. Were they going?Were they standing still? Bob couldn’ttell.

“How high are we?” he shouted at thetop of his voice to Hank.

“About 5,000 feet,” judged Hank. Hewas looking over at Hal rather anxiously.He thought that maybe the boy was goingto be sick. But Hal manfully hung on, and said nothing.

“We seem to be standing still,” shoutedBob.

“We’re going, all right. Your uncle isa great one for speed!” shouted back Hank.

The plane was banking now for a turn.They were going back. In a short whileBill had brought the plane down once moreinto the airport.

“Well, how did you like it?” he said, turning around in his pilot’s seat.

“Great!” said Bob.

But Hal was just a little sick. He saidnothing, and waited for the world to settledown again.

“You sure handle the ship like you usedto in the old days,” said Hank admiringlyto Bill.

“She’s a great ship,” said Bill, modestly.

Hank had an idea. “Say,” he said impulsively,“how would you like to fly herwhile I’m in Europe?”

“Gee, Hank, I really don’t think” – beganBill. He thought, the same old Hank, alwaysgenerous, always impulsive.

But Hank was going on with his plan.“Listen, I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.You fly my plane. And you can fly it upto the Canadian cabin if you want to. Thena perfectly swell vacation plan won’t be entirelythrown away. How about it? Thecabin is all ready to move into. They’vebeen fixing it up for me. What do you say?Are you game?”

“Game?” said Bill. “Gee, I’m crazy aboutthe idea. But I don’t see why you shoulddo this for me.”

Hank was embarrassed. “You’ve beenpretty decent to me in other times, rememberthat, Bill, old boy,” he said.

“Forget it,” said Bill.

Hank turned to the boys. “Bill here shotdown a Boche when the Boche was all butstepping on my tail. Those were the days,eh, Bill?”

“You bet,” said Bill. “We sure wereglad to get back alive. Remember old Lufbery?Raoul of the Lafayette Escadrille?There was a boy who could shoot themdown. Six out of seven in one day. Notbad flying, that. They used to get prettyclose to Raoul themselves. He’d come inwith his clothes ripped with bullets, butready to go right out again with the nextpatrol. Then one day he got his, and therewasn’t a man there that wouldn’t have giveneverything he had to save him, either.He’d gone up after a German that nobodyseemed able to down. Lufbery climbed upto get above him, and dove. But somethingwent wrong with his plane – God knowswhat, and those who were watching fromthe ground saw it burst into flame. Thenthey saw him stand on the edge of the cockpitand jump. It was horrible. But it wasthe only way for Lufbery to die – with hisplane. He wanted it that way.”

Then Hank said, “And Bill Thaw! Therewas another flying fool. Bill was great fun – alwayslaughing and joking, just as if hisnext flight might not be his last. Rememberwhat he did to those three German planeswhen they got fresh with him, Bill?” Heturned to the boys. “Thaw,” he explained,“was coming back from his regular patrol, when he suddenly came face to face withthree German planes. One of them maneuveredto his left, the second to his right, andthe third dove below him to fire up. Well,Bill had to think fast, and he did. He side-slippeduntil he was directly over the planebelow him, and fired down. One gone.Then he pulled himself out of a steep dive, and went after the second plane. A quickswoop, and a steep bank, a rapid burst offire, and the second German went down in aburning nose dive.

“From then on it was nip and tuck, andeach man for himself, dog eat dog. It wasa pretty even battle. The German was plucky, and ripped into Thaw for all he was worth.But one lucky turn, one accurate shot, andThaw had him. Down went his plane.Thaw, his plane in ribbons, his clothes bullet-riddled, limped home, stepped out of hisplane with a smile, and a joke on his lips.”

“Golly,” said Bob, “that must have beengreat fun. I wish I’d been there.”

“What would we have done with a babyin swaddling clothes?” laughed Bill.

“Aw,” said Bob, “you know I mean ifI was old enough.”

Hank was looking into the distance, withthe far-away look that meant another storywas coming on, and Bob stopped talking.

Finally Hank said, “Remember Luke andWehner? What a team! You never sawtwo men so different in your life. FrankLuke talked a lot – not always the mostmodest fellow in the world, either, and madea great to-do about everything he did. Buthe sure did plenty of damage to the Germans.Joe Wehner was quiet, modest, nevertalked very much, and never about himself.But still they were always together. Cameto be known as ‘The Luke and WehnerDuo.’

“They worked together, too. Went outon the same patrol and always stuck together.Luke’s specialty was shooting downDrachens. Those were the German observationballoons that they sent up behindtheir lines to observe what was going onin the American lines. Of course, the informationthey got caused plenty of harm, and anybody who shot down a Drachenwas doing a lot of good. But the thingswere expensive and useful, and the Germanssent them up with plenty of protection.There was always a swarm of planes flyingaround them and ready to light into anystranger that came near.

“Luke and Wehner used to take care ofthat. Wehner would fly above Luke, lookingout for any plane that might come toattack him. If one hove in sight, Wehnerwould go for him and engage him whileLuke flew on and shot down the balloon.Balloon after balloon went down. The Germanswere getting wary.

“One day when Luke and Wehner wereon their way to see what they could doabout three Drachens that were watchingthe American lines, they met up with a formationof Fokkers. Wehner dived into theuneven battle. Luke flew on, and shot downone, then the other bag. But the gallantWehner had fought his last fight. One ofthe Fokkers downed him. Luke, who sawwhat had happened to his pal, left the remainingballoon and furiously charged theFokkers. He fought like mad, zooming, diving, spurting fire into those German planes.Two of them hurtled to the ground. Theothers fled. Luke started for home. Onhis way he engaged and downed anotherenemy plane. It was a record that on anyother day he would have boasted about.But not that day. His pal had been killed, and Luke was for once silent and speechless.

“Of course, he didn’t give up balloonbreaking. He added up a goodly store. Butone day he got his, like so many of them.He’d sent three Drachens down in flames thatday, when his own plane was so badly crippled, and he was so badly wounded that hewas forced to land. He wouldn’t let themtake him, though, and he died fighting. Whena band of German soldiers approached him,he pulled out his gun and shot six of thembefore he fell dead.”

It was Bill’s turn. “Of course you boyshave heard of Eddie Rickenbacker. Therewas an ace for you. If it was speed andtrick flying that you wanted, Eddie was theman to give it to you. He had a bag oftricks that would get any pursuit plane offhis tail. But he didn’t always use them.He didn’t have 26 planes to his credit fornothing. Eddie was a great ace and a greatscout.”

Hank interrupted. “Here we go gassingagain like two old fogies. I feel like myown grandfather sitting on the front porchand discussing the battle of Bull Run. Weare getting old, aren’t we, Bill? Theseyoungsters ought to be glad that they didn’thave to fly those old buses that we used, though. The new planes are great to fly.You two are going to have a grand time.I’d rather fly than travel any other way.But I don’t think that it would be quitethe thing to suggest to my wife now thatI would rather fly to Europe with her thantake the boat. So old Hank will be a landanimal this time. Or rather, a water animal, instead of a bird.”

“A sort of – fish?” laughed Bill.

“Shut up, you,” said Hank. “Now, listen, how about that offer of my cabin andmy plane for your vacation? It’ll be agrand trip, and I guarantee that you’ll likethe cabin on the mountain. Nobody aroundfor miles, except Jake, who takes care ofthe place for me. In fact, there’s no townfor a hundred miles around. About the onlypractical way of getting there is by plane.Just think, old man, all of that beauty andsolitude going begging. You can get rightback to nature there, live a wild life, orhave all the conveniences of home, whicheveryou chose. We’ve got the place all fixedup. It’s a real man’s place, and you’ll loveit. And I’d like to see somebody who’d appreciateit have it this summer. And I knowyou would.”

Bill looked at Hank, who was talking soearnestly, with a puzzled look. “Listen,Hank,” he said, “you aren’t trying to persuademe to go up there as a favor to you, are you? Because if you are, you’re crazy.It’s certainly not you who should be doingthe begging. We ought to be down on ourhands and knees begging you for the place.The only reason I hesitate at all is becauseI think it’s too much you’re doing for us.”

Hank snorted. “Then you’re going totake the place.”

Bill looked at him fondly, seeing throughthe strange marks that time had left on thisman, the young, awkward boy whom hehad befriended in France, when he hadbeen just a young fellow himself, but notso green as the other. Then he said, “Whatdo you say we leave it up to the boys?” Heturned to them. “What do you say, Bob?How does a vacation up in the mountainssound to you?”

Bob, his eyes shining, could hardly answer.He hadn’t wanted to show too much eagernessbefore because he had remembered hismanners just in time, and was watching Billto see how they should respond to HankBrown’s generous offer. But now that hesaw that Bill was favorably disposed, hebreathed, “Oh, gee, I think that it would begreat! Just great! Let’s go, Bill.”

Hank was amused and pleased by thisenthusiasm.

The Captain turned to Hal. “How aboutyou?”

Hal, who had forgotten his misery duringthe recital of the exciting stories of waraces, and was once more fired with ambition, now that he was safely on the ground, wasalmost as enthusiastic. “But,” he said asan afterthought, “I don’t know whether Icould go, of course. My mother – ” hisvoice trailed off.

Bill reached over and grasped Hank’s hand.“We’ll take it, old scout. Don’t know howto thank you.”

“Don’t,” said Hank. “I’m glad you’regoing to go. All you have to do is to wireto Jake when you’re coming. He lights bonfiresto mark the landing field, and thereyou are. I’m going to be in town for twoweeks, so you can come up any time tomake arrangements. O.K.? Now I’ve gotto go. I’ve been spending too much timeas it is. Wish I could stay and see Pat, butI can’t. Tell him to come up and see me, will you?”

He bid them goodbye and left in his automobilewhich had been parked nearby.The next hour was spent in an excitinginspection of the various planes in the airport, from tiny two-seater monoplanes thatlooked like fragile toys, to huge biplanes; and in a growing impatience with Pat’s delay.Finally a tiny speck appeared on thehorizon, but the three of them had beendisappointed so often that they did not dareto hope that this was at last Pat McDermott.But it was. He stepped out of the greenmonoplane and pushing up his goggles, lookedaround him. He spied his three friendsimmediately, and hurried to meet them.

“Hi, Irish!” called Captain Bill. “I wantyou to meet two pals of mine.” He introducedBob and Hal. “We’re going to teachthem to fly.”

The two boys shook hands with Pat. Helooked like his name, a tall, broad, huskyman with a shock of curly hair that hadprobably once been red, but which was nowbrown, with a little gray at the temples; ayoung face – it was impossible to tell howold he was; and a broad grin that spreadacross his face and up around his eyes, disappearinginto the roots of his hair.

“Well,” he said, without ceremony, asthough he had been friends of theirs foryears, “They’ll make good flyers if they’renot too lazy. And if anybody can makeyou work, I can. And I will.”

The Captain laughed. “Don’t take Patseriously,” he said. “He’s too lazy to makeyou work very hard. But let me warn youthat he’s trained army flyers, so you’d betternot mind what he says, while he’s teachingyou.”

The boys had gone over and were lookingat the Marianne. She was a beautifullystream-lined craft, large yet graceful.

Pat noticed the boys’ admiration, and waspleased. “How about taking a ride in hernow?” he asked.





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