Airship Andy; Or, The Luck of a Brave Boy

by Frank V. Webster

  CHAPTER VII--JOHN PARKS, AIRSHIP KING

  "Keep right on," ordered the aeronaut to Andy in a low tone.

  Andy squeezed under a bulge of muslin and wood and reached what lookedlike a low, flat-topped stool.

  "Do you hear me?" yelled the farmer, brandishing his weapon and tryingto look very fierce and dangerous.

  The aeronaut, Andy noticed, was reaching in his pocket. He drew out twosmall bills and some silver. He made a wad of this. Poising it, he gaveit a fling.

  "There's five dollars," he spoke to the farmer.

  The wad hit the farmer on the shoulder, opened, and the silver scatteredat his feet. He hopped aside.

  "I won't take it; I'll have my price, or I'll have the law on you, andI'll take the law in my own hands!" he shouted.

  Snap!--the fowling-piece made a sound, and quick-witted Andy noticed thatit was not a click.

  "See here," he whispered quickly to the aeronaut; "that man just snappedthe trigger to scare us, and I don't believe the old blunderbuss isloaded."

  "All ready," spoke the aeronaut to Andy, as the latter reached the seat.

  "Yes, sir," reported Andy.

  "When I back, give the rope a pull and hold taut till we clear thebarn."

  "I'll do it," said Andy.

  "Go!"

  There was a whir, a delicious tremulous lifting movement that now madeAndy thrill all over, and the biplane backed as the aeronaut pulled alever.

  Andy gave the rope a pull and lifted the entangled wing entirely clearof the weather-vane.

  "Now, hold tight and enjoy yourself," spoke the aeronaut, reversing themachine.

  "Oh, my!" breathed Andy rapturously the next moment, and he forgot allabout the farmer and nearly everything else mundane in the delight andnovelty of a brand-new experience.

  Andy had once shot the chutes, and had dreamed about it for a monthafterwards. He recalled his first spin in an automobile with a thrilleven now. That was nothing to the present sensation. He could notanalyze it. He simply sat spellbound. One moment his breath seemed takenaway; the next he seemed drawing in an atmosphere that set his nervestingling and seemed to intoxicate mind and body.

  The aeronaut sat grim and watchful in the pilot seat of the glider,never speaking a word. He had skimmed the landscape for quite a reach.Then, where the ground began to slant, he said quickly:

  "Notice my left foot?"

  "I do," said Andy.

  "Put yours on the stabilizing shaft when I take mine off."

  "Stabilizing shaft," repeated Andy, memorizing, "and the name of theairship painted on that big paddle is the _Eagle_. Oh, hurrah for the_Eagle_!"

  "When I whistle once, press down with your foot. Twice, you take yourfoot off. When I whistle twice, pull over the handle right at your sideon the center-drop."

  "'Center-drop'?" said Andy. "I'm getting it fast."

  Z--zip! Andy fancied that something was wrong, for the machine contortedlike a horse raising on his rear feet. Toot! Andy did not lose hisnerve. Toot--toot! he grasped the handle at his side and pulled it back.

  "Good for you!" commended the aeronaut heartily. "Now, then, for aspin."

  Andy simply looked and felt for the next ten minutes. The pretty, daintymachine made him think of a skylark, an arrow, a rocket. He had abouyant sensation like a person taking laughing gas.

  The lifting planes moved readily under the manipulation of an experthand. There was one level flight where the airship exceeded any railroadspeed Andy had ever noted. Farms, villages, streams, hills, faded behindthem in an endless panorama.

  Toot!--Andy followed instructions. They slowed up over a town that seemedto be some railroad center. Beyond it the machine skimmed a broadprairie and then gracefully settled down in the center of a fenced-inspace.

  Its wheels struck the ground. They rolled along for about fifty yards,and halted by the side of a big tent with an open flap at one side.

  "This is the stable," said the aeronaut, showing Andy how to get fromhis seat on the delicate and complicated apparatus of the flyer."Dizzy-headed?"

  "Why, no," replied Andy.

  "Wasn't frightened a bit?"

  "Not with you at the helm," declared Andy. "Mister, if I could do that,I'd live up in the air all the time."

  "You only think so," said the aeronaut, the smile of experience upon hispractical but good-humored face. "When you've been at it as long as Ihave, you'll feel different. What's your name?"

  "Andy Nelson."

  "Out of a job?"

  "Yes, sir."

  The aeronaut looked Andy over critically,

  "That little frame building at the end of the tent is where we keephouse," he explained. "The big rambling barracks, once a coal-shed, ismy shop. I'm John Parks. Ever hear of me?"

  "No, sir," said Andy.

  "I'm known all over the country as the Airship King."

  "I can believe that," said Andy, "but, you see, I have never traveledfar."

  "I've made it a business giving exhibitions at fairs and aero meets withthis glider and with a dirigible balloon. Just now I'm drilling for aprize race--five thousand dollars."

  "That's some money," observed Andy, "and I guess you'll win it."

  "I see you like me, and I like you," said John Parks. "Suppose you helpme win that prize? I need good loyal help around me, and the way youobey orders pleases me. I'll make you an offer--your keep and tendollars."

  "And I'll be near the airship?" asked Andy eagerly. "And learn to runit?"

  "Yes."

  "Oh, my!" cried the boy, almost lifted off his feet. "Mr. Parks, I can'trealize such good luck."

  "It's yours for the choosing," said the aeronaut.

  "Ten dollars a month and my board for helping run an airship!" said Andybreathlessly. "Oh, of course I'll take it--gladly."

  "No," corrected John Parks, "ten dollars a week."