Battling the Clouds; or, For a Comrade's Honor

by Frank Cobb

  CHAPTER VI

  Jardin left the following week and the two boys tried to settle downinto the old groove. Bill spent a great deal of time with Frank,watching the manoeuvers on the Field. Frank kept up the study ofaviation with surprising earnestness. He had a special gift for it andwas really a source of great pride to his instructors. Of course hisfather forbade long or very high flights, but Frank soon was able toexecute any of the simpler stunts that make the air so thrilling.

  Bill, who refrained from any flying even as a passenger on account ofhis mother, tried to absorb as much as he could from the talk and from acouple of the airmen who took a great fancy to the quiet, handsome boywho asked such intelligent questions and who so soon mastered all thetechnicalities of the monster dragonflies.

  With a small maliciousness that surprised even himself, Frank haddropped a hint here and there that Bill was afraid to fly, and the twoairmen, Lem Saunders and Chauncey Harringford, who were his specialfriends at the Field discussed it between themselves. One day theystopped Lee and asked him if it was true. Lee flushed under his dark,swarthy skin, and his small, black eyes flashed angrily.

  "Who says it?" he demanded.

  "I don't know how it started," answered Lem. "I don't know as it matterswhether the kid is afraid or not, but it doesn't seem just like him; andI sort of hate to think there is a grain of yellow anywhere in that goodbody of his."

  "I will bet all my month's pay that there isn't," affirmed Chauncey. "I_know_ there isn't, but I wish I knew how the report started. It makesit sort of hard for him. The fellows guy him."

  "I wish _I_ could be there when they do. I know one soldier who wouldhave a ticket for the guardhouse for fighting in about ten minutes."

  "It is not as bad as that," said Chauncey. "The fellows don't mean anyharm, only young Frank is such a whiz and even that green little sproutof a Jardin flew like a swallow. And here is Bill, by far the best ofthe three, won't go off the ground but just shakes his head and grins ifyou ask him why not."

  "I know the reason," said Lee firmly. "It is a good one, too. Do youknow his mother? No? Well, she is more like an angel than a humanbeing." Lee took off his campaign hat as he spoke, as though he couldnot talk of Mrs. Sherman while he remained covered.

  "She is perfect," he continued. "So gentle, so sweet; and such a truefriend! But she has a very weak heart. There is something wrong, verywrong about it, and Major Sherman has told me that a shock might killher. And what greater shock could there be than something happening toher only son? Major Sherman told me that he had explained it to Bill,and that Bill never did one thing to worry his mother. If he says hewill come home at a certain time, he gets there. When he is away, atLawton or Medicine Park or any place like that, he telephones her acouple of times to let her know he is all right. That boy is a peach, Ican tell you! There are dozens of things he doesn't do on her account.And he never complains. He doesn't wait for her to ask him not to,either. It is awfully hard on him, I can tell you, because he is themost fearless and daring boy of his age I have ever seen. He wants totry everything going." Lee looked wistful. "I wish _I_ could hearsomeone say Bill is a coward!"

  "They don't go as far as that," said Chauncey soothingly. "They just guyhim a little."

  "They will stop guying if _I_ hear them," said Lee doggedly. "The boyhas every kind of courage that there is and some day will prove it. Butnever, never if it will distress his mother. He will bear all the slursand insults in the world rather than hurt her."

  "Jimminy, old fellow, you take it too hard!" said Lem, laughing. "Allthe fellows do is guy him, and we will see to it that they stop that,you can bank on it. Chance here and me will never see the kid abused. Iam some scrapper myself, if it comes to that!"

  He pounded Lee cheerfully on the back and that young man smiled in spiteof himself. Turning, he caught Lem, a six footer and heavy, and withwhat seemed a playful little clasp raised him from the ground and tossedhim over his shoulder where he hung balanced for a minute before Leegently eased him to the ground. Chauncey was round-eyed with amazementand Lem sputtered, "Lee, you wizard, you! How in the world did you dothat? Why, I am twice your size!"

  "Just a little Indian trick that I learned a good while ago when I usedto visit some cousins of mine. There were two young bucks who used towrestle with me, and I learned a lot from them. I have been teachingBill, and he can almost beat me at my own game. You don't have to be biglike you, Lem. Do you want to see me throw you twenty feet over myhead?"

  "Why, you loon, I should say not!" said Lem, backing off.

  "Oh, be a sport, Lem, and let me see the fun!" cried Chauncey.

  But Lem refused to be obliging. For a man who did not care how high orhow far he flew, he was strangely unwilling to let himself be tossed outon the prairie to amuse Chance or anyone else.

  Lee walked off laughing. The others stood looking after him.

  "The only Indian thing about him is his color and his walk. Do younotice how he puts one foot down right in front of the other as thoughhe was walking along a narrow trail?"

  "He is one of the straightest fellows I have ever known," said Lem,feeling of his neck and waggling his head to see if it was all rightafter its late experience with Lee. "I am glad to know about Bill. Heunderstands every last thing there is about a plane, and it did seem sofunny that he would never leave the ground. It is a wonderful chance forthose kids to stand in over here, you know. They are getting the besttraining in the world in the flying game. I had commenced to think Billwas a perfect sissy. That little automobile of his is a wonder--aregular racing car on a small scale--and yet he goes crawling along atfifteen miles an hour. Well, I am glad to know how it is."

  Lem fished in his pocket and found some chewing gum which he offered toChauncey. They strolled away in the direction of the hangars and Leehurried over to Major Anderson's quarters, where he found the two boyssitting on the wide, screened veranda.

  "Just waiting for you, Lee," said Bill, looking at his watch. "We mustbe getting along. Do you know what I am doing these days?" he askedFrank, who was moodily staring at Lee. "I am packing up for school."

  "Why didn't you begin last Christmas?" asked Frank, coming out of hisdream.

  "There is always such a lot of things to attend to at the last secondand I am getting all my traps in shape."

  "Mother is packing for me," said Frank. "I wish we didn't have to go. Iwill be all out of practice with the planes by the time we have a chanceto fly again. I wonder where Jardin is going to school?"

  "Have you heard from him lately?" asked Bill.

  "Not a word since he went away. Mother thought it was funny he didn'twrite her a note to thank her for entertaining him. His father wrote herinstead."

  "Did Jardin know where we are going?" asked Bill.

  "We didn't know ourselves when he left, and I can't write and tell him,because for all I know he may be in Europe by this time."

  "_I_ am just as well pleased," said Bill. "You know I never did have anyuse for him, and I think we will get along a good deal better with theother fellows and with the teachers if he is not there as a friend ofours."

  "You were always down on him and for nothing," said Frank. "I think heis all right. And he has the money, too."

  "Well, you don't want to sponge, do you?" asked Bill.

  "Of course not!" said Frank, flushing. "You are such a nut about things!Of course I don't mean _sponge_, but money is the only thing that willput you in right at school or anywhere else."

  "That sounds just like Jardin," replied Bill. "Well, if that is so, whatdo you suppose I am going to do on about nine cents a week? What are yougoing to do yourself?"

  "I don't know, but if there is any money to be had, I am going to getit."

  "How are you going to go about it?" asked Bill as he stepped into theSwallow and prepared to start.

  "I don't know," answered Frank, still sitting with his chin in hishands. "Beg it, or borrow it, or steal it."

  Bill threw in the clutch and the Swallo
w sped away.

  Frank was left to his own bitter thoughts. Money! He had brooded overhis lack of it and had remembered Jardin's assurance that to have a goodtime in school he must have a pocketful of money at all times. Frank hadchanged his mind about school. He was going for the good time heexpected to have. He only wished that he was going with Jardin insteadof with Bill Sherman. What Bill had said about sponging had stung him.Now he knew that he must obtain what he wanted somehow and somewhere.His mother could not give it to him; his father would not. He hadnothing to sell that was of any value. Yes, there was one thing. Hecould pawn his watch, that beautiful watch that had been hisgrandfather's and which he was to use when he was twenty-one. In themeantime it was _his_, left him by his grandfather's will. On the spurof the moment he rose and hurried into the house. Why had he not thoughtof it before? It was a repeater, that watch, and his grandfather hadpaid nearly a thousand dollars for it. He would sell it. He hurried intothe house and to his mother's room: he knew where she always kept herjewel case hidden. The watch was there and putting it in his pocket,Frank hurried out of the house.

  Bill and Lee took it slowly as usual going back to school, stopping towatch the big observation balloon come down to anchor.

  "I am sorry about Frank," Bill remarked as they turned and skirted theparade ground in New Post. "I never saw a fellow change so in such ashort time. He is brooding all the time and is as grouchy as he can be.I wish there was something I could do for him."

  "Just what I was thinking," said Lee. "Do you suppose his folks wouldmind if I gave him the money he wants? I am getting an awful wad downthere in the bank. I am always in right with my grandfather because Ican talk his sign language and because I look more like an Indian thansome of the real ones. I would be awfully glad to give him five or sixhundred dollars."

  "That is perfectly fine of you, Lee, but I know they would not want youto do such a thing, because they would think it was simply wild to haveFrank have a large sum. At the school we are going to, there is a rulethat the boys are not to have money. There is a small sum deposited withthe principal and he gives us what he thinks we ought to have. More forthe big fellows and less for the little ones, and none at all if wedon't behave."

  Lee looked disappointed.

  "That's too bad," he said, patting Bill on the shoulder with a rarecaress. "I was going to get Major Sherman to let me divvy up with you."

  "You are all right, Lee, old man," said Bill, "but honest, I won't needmoney. What I will want is a letter from you once in awhile. That willbe the best thing you can do for me. Gee, I know I am just about goingto die with homesickness. Why, I was never away from my mother before inmy life! I can tell you, I will never be away from home any more than Ican help. Home folks are good enough for me," he laughed.

  Lee stuck to the subject. "What if I should _lend_ Frank the money hewants?" he persisted.

  "I tell you, old dear, he won't be allowed to have money at all."

  "What is to prevent it if they don't know it?" asked Lee.

  "Why, _he_ wouldn't want to break the rules," said Bill. "There is nofun in breaking rules. You can get enough fun without that."

  "All right," said Lee, "but the Indian part of me is having a bad hunchabout Frank. You watch and see. He is going to get into trouble, and Ithink it will have something to do with this money he wants so much."

  "I hate to have you say that," from Bill. "Your hunches come to timepretty sharply; but I will simply keep an eye on him and try to keep himout of trouble. It is lucky we are not going to the same school withJardin."

  "Do you know that you are not?" said Lee with a queer smile.

  "Yes, I _do_ know, and for two reasons. We did not know where we weregoing when he was here and, second place, the school we are going to isnot swell enough for Jardin."

  "Look for him when you get there," remarked Lee.

  "Oh, wow!" cried Bill, sending the Swallow in a long sweep to the backstep of the quarters in B2. "If you keep this hunch business up, Lee,you will be getting up as a fortune-teller. We are through with Jardinfor a good while, I am thinking."

  They were not through with Jardin's influence at least. If it had notbeen for his tales and suggestions, Frank would not at that moment havebeen walking the streets of Lawton, his grandfather's splendid watch inhis pocket, hunting for a pawnshop that looked inviting. He came to onewith a window filled with diamond rings and watches that were certainlynot in the class with the timepiece he was carrying. That seemed a goodplace to go. With so many ordinary watches on hand, they wouldappreciate as fine a one as he carried.

  He looked in the window, then walked boldly in with the air of a personwho wishes to buy something. He did it so well that the proprietor cameforward with a beaming smile.

  The smile faded when Frank laid the watch on the counter and the manpierced him with a keen look. He took the watch and turned it over.

  "What is your name?" he asked suddenly.

  Frank looked up in surprise.

  "I don't see as that has anything to do with it," he replied stiffly.

  "It has a good deal to do with it," said the man. "That is not the sortof a watch a boy your age carries. Not on your life it isn't! Now wheredid you get that watch? Did you steal it? That is the question. Are youselling it for someone else? That's what I want to know. We arelicensed dealers here, and we got to be pertected. Come across, youngfeller, come across! What's your name?"

  "Bill Sherman," said Frank, and was sorry as soon as he had said it. Buthe did not dare retract his words.

  "So far, so good!" said the man to whom the name meant nothing. "Now,Bill Sherman, where did you get this watch?"

  "It is mine," said Frank, "and I am not selling it; I want to pawn it."

  "If Bill Sherman can afford to own a watch like that, why then should hepawn it? Looks like he ought to have plenty of money."

  "I do mostly," said Frank, red and fidgeting. "But I am short just atpresent, and that is my own watch that my grandfather willed to me so Ithought I would pawn it for awhile."

  "I don't know," said the man. "I got boys of my own. But if I don't takeit you will go somewhere else. So what's the difference? What do youexpect to get for it?"

  "Grandfather paid nearly a thousand dollars for it!" said Frank. "Wouldyou think six hundred dollars about right?"

  Then for a moment Frank thought the pawnshop man was going to have afit, a fit of large and dreadful proportions, right on the premises. Hiseyes bulged; he choked and gurgled. It was really awful, and Frank couldnot help wishing himself home again, watch and all. Even with thecoveted sum so close within reach, he was sick of the whole thing.

  Presently the pawnshop man came to himself a little.

  He leaned across the counter and said softly, "Would you please say thatagain?"

  "Six hundred dollars," repeated Frank.

  "Say," said the man, leaning confidentially toward the boy, "what ajoker you are! That's good enough for vaudeville, I'll say! Well, we'velaughed enough at that, ain't we? And I feel so funny about it that Iwill give you a good price for the watch. What do you guess it is?" Heleaned closer. "Twenty-five dollars."

  "_Twenty-five dollars!_" gasped Frank. "Why, my grandfather paid 'most athousand dollars for it!"

  "Sure, I don't doubt it; and so did George Washington have a watchbigger than this that cost a lot of money but I would not give more thantwenty-five dollars for either one of 'em."

  "I can't take that," said Frank, looking so shocked and disappointedthat the man knew that he would end by accepting.

  "Twenty-five is as high as I can go," said the man. "We got to pertectourselves."