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Read Ebook: The Stolen Aeroplane; or How Bud Wilson Made Good by Sayler H L Harry Lincoln Gunn M G Illustrator
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Ebook has 1276 lines and 42769 words, and 26 pages
"Nothing--that is, almost nothing. But I guess I know a little. You know I ran Mr. Greeley's automobile nearly all summer. I understand motors. And--well, I do know something about aeroplanes. I tried to make one this summer."
A look of sudden interest showed in the banker's face.
"Oh, I remember now, you are the youngster that nearly broke his neck trying to fly."
"I suppose Lafe Pennington told that," answered Bud, looking up. "Well, I didn't. I fell, but I lit on my feet, and I didn't even harm my aeroplane."
President Elder was looking over the big crates, and peering through the frames. Suddenly, he turned to Bud again.
"It wasn't really an aeroplane. That is, I didn't have an engine; but I made the wings; and I flew one hundred and fifty feet in them, too, out at Greeley's gravel pit."
"Then you know how an aeroplane is made?"
"I think I do. They are all pretty much alike. When I see this one, I'll know a lot more."
An idea was plainly working in President Elder's brain. He made a searching examination of the lad before him. Then he asked:
"Didn't you and Lafe Pennington work on this airship idea together?"
Bud laughed outright.
"Hardly," he answered, "Lafe wouldn't work with any one. He knows too much. I worked alone."
President Elder looked at his watch. It was just noon.
"Do you think you could put this airship together?"
"Certainly, I put my own together."
"Bud, meet me here at one o'clock. I may have a job for you."
While the banker's smart rig went clattering up the brick street, Bud started for home on a run.
Long before one o'clock, Bud was at the freight-house again. In a short time, a dray and an express wagon appeared. About the time that a large farm wagon, drawn by two horses, came in sight, Mr. Elder reappeared. In the buggy with him was the young man referred to several times by Mr. Elder and Bud an hour before--Lafe Pennington. As they sprang from the vehicle, Bud was on the freight-house platform. Lafe passed the boy with a condescending smile; but Mr. Elder stopped.
"Bud," he began, "I had a kind of a notion that I had a job for you, but I guess that's all off."
"I hoped you had. I hurried back."
"Well, it's this way. I forgot that our clerk, Mr. Pennington, had some knowledge of aeroplanes. We are in a sort of a box, and after I talked to you, I decided to try to get this machine ready. The man who ought to do it isn't here. Even if he comes to-night, he won't have time to set it up. So, while I talked to you, I decided to try to put it together and have it ready when he came. I was going to get you to help."
"Can't I?" asked the boy eagerly.
"I don't think we'll need you now. I've got Mr. Pennington. He says he can do it without any trouble. And you know he's in the bank, and I know him. He's one of our clerks."
"I reckon he can do it, perhaps," answered Bud in a disappointed tone, "but I'd like to help too. I'd work for nothing."
"I suggested that, but Mr. Pennington says he'd rather work alone."
Mr. Elder was about to pass on when Bud touched his sleeve.
"Mr. Elder," he said, "Lafe said that because he knew I was the only person in Scottsville who could help. I haven't anything against Lafe, but you ought to know the facts--I know more about aeroplanes than he does. He may be able to do what you want, and he may not. You may think I'm knocking Lafe, but I'm not. I'm just giving you the truth: he thinks he knows more about airships than he really does."
"You seem to feel sure you know it all," almost sneered the banker.
"I should say not," answered the boy promptly. "I know hardly anything, and Lafe knows less."
"Well, if we get stuck, I suppose we can call on you."
"I'll be right there, waiting."
"Pshaw," exclaimed the banker laughing, "we need plenty of help. Mr. Pennington may not want you, but I do. Turn in and give us a lift. Between us, we'll see what we can do. We are going to move these boxes out to the fair-ground, and see if we can put our aeroplane together. You're hired to help."
THE HERO OF THE GRAVEL PIT.
The Scott County Fair-grounds were a mile and a half from Scottsville. A little after two o'clock, the "aeroplane" cavalcade was on its way there from the freight-house. In front, rode President Elder of the fair association, with Lafayette, or Lafe, Pennington, the bank clerk and amateur dabbler in aeronautics, by his side. Then came a dray with the four-cylinder, 25-horse power, 190 lb. Curtiss engine elaborately crated. Next was an express wagon with boxed engine accessories, such as gasoline tank, water cooler, chain drives, and the dismounted propeller blades. In the rear, in the big farm wagon, rode proud Bud Wilson, busy preserving the balance of the spruce sections of the aeroplane surfaces.
In the excitement attendant upon the fair, the procession attracted little attention. Buggies and passenger hacks raised clouds of dust in which wagons laden with belated exhibits made their way toward the great enclosure within whose high white fence Scott County's agricultural exhibit was fast getting into final order. At the sight of President Elder, the gate attendants threw the white portals wide open, and Bud had a new joy--he was working for the fair, and didn't have to pay to get in.
"I never did pay," laughed Bud, speaking to the driver of the wagon, "but this is the first time I ever went in at the main gate."
Winding their way among the plows, self-binders and threshing-machines already in place, and then directly between the two lines of peanut, pop, candy, cider and "nigger baby" stands--already making a half-hearted attempt to attract trade--the aeroplane wagons passed through the heart of the grounds. Near the "grand stand," where for ten cents extra, one might view the trotting and running races, President Elder alighted and personally superintended the unlocking of the gates leading onto the race-track. Across this, the three vehicles made their way.
At the far end of the space within the smooth half-mile race-track was a newly built shed, made according to directions forwarded from the aeroplane factory in New Jersey. In front of this, the wagons halted. There were not many persons in attendance that day on the fair, but there were enough to make an audience of several hundred at once. The aeroplane shed was a temporary structure--a shed with a board top and canvas sides. Willing hands soon had the different sections of the car either in the house or near by in front.
"What do you want Bud to do?" asked President Elder.
Lafe smiled feebly.
"Nothing just now," he answered. "He can stay outside and see that we are not disturbed. I don't think it will take us very long."
The confident clerk started to enter the shed.
"How about the starting track and the derrick for the drop weight?" asked Bud innocently. "I don't see any material here for those."
Lafe stopped suddenly, and looked up in surprise.
"Yes, of course," he faltered, "where are they?"
"I don't know what you mean," said President Elder. "I guess everything's here."
Pennington made a quick survey.
"Oh, they are not here," explained Bud. "I discovered that some days ago."
"You're right," conceded Lafe. "They must have forgotten them. We'll have to telegraph for them."
"Telegraph nothing," blurted the president. "We've no time for telegraphing. They can't get 'em here in time. If it's something you have to have, I guess we are stuck."
"Perhaps," suggested Bud, "the manufacturers expected you to make this apparatus on the ground. The ropes and automatic release block are here."
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