Airship Andy; Or, The Luck of a Brave Boy

by Frank V. Webster

  CHAPTER XIV--THE OLD LEATHER POCKETBOOK

  "No sky-sailing to-day, Andy," said John Parks, the aeronaut.

  "I guess you are right," answered Andy.

  "A rest won't do you any harm. There are three days before the lastevent, and plenty of time to try Morse's new wrinkles."

  "I think I'll go and see what the latest one is," said Andy.

  It was a rainy day with a strong breeze, and waste of time, Andy wellknew, to attempt any flights under the conditions. He went to theworkshop to find Mr. Morse and the Japanese deep in discussion over someangle of a new reversible plane, they called it. Tsilsuma had becomealmost a fixture at the Parks' camp. He was unobtrusive generally, buthis instincts and mission to delve and absorb were accommodated andencouraged by the inventor, and a strong friendship had sprung upbetween the two.

  Andy wandered about promiscuously, time hanging heavily on his hands.Finally he settled down in the comfortable sitting room looking oversome books on scientific subjects, and picking out here and there asimple fact among a group of very abstruse ones.

  "If ever I get any money ahead," he observed, "I'll put some of it intoeducation, and I'll study up aeronautics first thing. It seems as ifit's natural for me to see right through a machine first time I see it,but I don't understand the real principles, for all that. No, sir, it'sbrains like Mr. Morse has got that counts. If sky-sailing is going tolast, and I follow it up, I'm going to dig deep right down into it,college fashion, and really understand my business. Hello!"

  Andy had laid aside the scientific book and had taken up a newspaper.Glancing over its columns, his eye became fixed upon an advertisementoccupying a prominent position just under some local reading matter.This is what it read.

  Notice--Important!

  Lost--Somewhere on a train between Macon and Greenville, an old leatherpocketbook, marked Robert Webb, Springfield, and containing $200. Thefinder may keep the money, and upon return of the pocketbook will behandsomely rewarded.

  West, Thorburn & Castle, _Attorneys_, Butler Block, Greenville.

  "Well," aspirated Andy energetically, "here's something new!"

  The incident stirred up his thought so much that he found himselfwalking the floor restlessly. Andy had a vivid imagination, and he builtup all kinds of fancies about the singular advertisement.

  "Wonder what lies under all this?" ruminated Andy. "They don't want thetwo hundred dollars, and they offer more money to get back that oldpocketbook! They will never get the whole of it, though, that's certain.Gus Talbot tore off the flap of it. The rest of it--lying in my oldclothes in that shed on the Collins farm, where I helped drive thosegeese. There was nothing left in the pocketbook, I am sure of that. Whatcan they want it for, then? Evidently Mr. Webb didn't get my postalcard."

  Andy could not figure this out. He found it impossible, however, todismiss the subject from his mind.

  "People don't go to all the bother that advertising shows," he reasoned,"unless it's mighty important. Can I get the pocketbook, though, afterall. I threw it carelessly up on a sort of a shelf in that old shed, andit may have been removed and destroyed with other rubbish. I've got theday before me, with nothing to do. I wouldn't be at all sorry if the twohundred dollars came my way in a fair, square manner. I'll run down toGreenville. It won't take four hours, there and back. I'll see whatthere is to this affair--yes, I'll do it."

  Andy sought out Mr. Parks and told him he was going to take a run downto Greenville on business, and would be back by evening at the latest.He caught a train about ten o'clock, and noon found him at the door ofthe law offices of West, Thorburn & Castle, Butler Block. Our heroentered one of three offices, where he saw a gentleman seated at a desk.

  "I would like to see some member of the firm," he said.

  "I am Mr. West," answered the lawyer.

  "It is about an advertisement you put in the paper about a lostpocketbook," explained Andy.

  "Oh, indeed," said Mr. West, looking interested at once, and arising andclosing the door. "Do you know something about it?"

  "I know all about it," declared Andy. "In fact, I found it only a fewminutes after it was lost."

  "On the train?"

  "No, sir. Mr. Webb did not lose it on the train."

  "He thinks he did."

  "He is mistaken," said Andy. "He lost it in an automobile that took himon a rush run from Princeville across country to Macon. I was hischauffeur, and found it."

  "Where is the pocketbook?" inquired the lawyer eagerly. "Have youbrought it with you?"

  "No, sir; but I think I can get it."

  "We will make it richly worth your while," said Mr. West.

  "There is something I had better explain about it," said Andy.

  "Spent the two hundred dollars?" insinuated the lawyer, with anindulgent smile.

  "Oh, no--the two hundred dollars is waiting for Mr. Webb to claim it withMr. Dawson, the banker at Princeville. Let me tell you my story, Mr.West, and then you will understand better."

  Andy told his story. He had a surprised, but intent listener. When hehad concluded, the lawyer shook his hand warmly.

  "Young man, you are a good, honest young fellow, and you will not regretacting square in this affair. Mr. Webb did not get your postal card,because he is no longer located at Springfield. How far from here is thefarm you spoke of where you left the pocketbook?"

  "About eighteen miles, I should think."

  "Can you get there by rail?"

  "Within two miles of it."

  "And soon?"

  "Why, yes, sir," replied Andy, glancing at his watch. "There is a trainwest in a quarter of an hour."

  "At any expense," said Mr. West earnestly, "get there and return withthe pocketbook. As to your reward----"

  "Don't speak of it," said Andy. "Mr. Webb treated me handsomely when Ibrought him over to Macon. I can't imagine, though, why he puts so muchstore by the pocketbook."

  "If you find it, he will tell you why," responded Mr. West. "You will bedoing the best piece of work you ever did in finding that pocketbook. Ishall telegraph my client to come here at once. He will be here by fouro'clock."

  "And I will be here not more than an hour later," said Andy.

  He left the office on a brisk walk, planning his proposed route to theold farm. As he reached the street, he again glanced at his watch andfound he had just ten minutes to reach the depot. Andy made a runningspurt down the pavement.

  He dodged an automobile speeding around a corner, heard its driver shoutsomething he did not catch. Then he heard the machine turn and startfuriously down the street in the direction he was going.

  Andy saw some people stare at him, halt, and then look towards thespeeding machine. Wondering what was up, he glanced back to notice thedriver of the machine waving one hand frantically towards him as if benton overtaking him.

  At the same moment the man in the machine bawled out:

  "Hey, stop that boy!"