Skyrider

by B. M. Bower

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  JOHNNY WOULD SERVE TWO MASTERS

  Bland Halliday objected to rising with the sun. In fact, he objected torising at all. He groaned a great deal, and he swore with great fluencyand complained of excruciating pains here and there. The only thing towhich he did not object was eating the breakfast that Johnny had cooked.And since Johnny could not remember the time when riding had been reallypainful, and therefore discounted the misery of his guest, he refused toconcede the point of Bland Halliday's inability to get up and go aboutthe business for which he had come so far.

  "Aw, you'll be all right when you stir around a little," was the scantcomfort he gave. "It's a good big half mile over to where I've got itcached. A ride'll limber you up--"

  "Ride? On a horse? Not on your life! Honest, old top, I'm all in; Icouldn't walk if you was to pay me a million a step. On the square, bo--"

  "Say, I wish you'd cut out that 'bo' and 'old top' and call me Johnny.That's my name. And I wish you'd cut out the misery talk too. Why, goodgolly! What do you think I brought yuh down here for? Just to give you aride? I've got an airplane to repair, and you claimed you could repairit. If you do, I promised to take you to the Coast with it. That's theunderstanding, and she still rides that way. Get up and come eat. We'vegot to get busy. I ain't taking summer boarders."

  "Aw, have a heart, bo--"

  Johnny's code was simple and direct, and therefore effective. He hadbrought this fellow to Sinkhole for a purpose, and he did not intend tobe thwarted in that purpose just because the man happened to be a whiner.Johnny went over to the bunk, grabbed Bland Halliday by a shoulder and aleg, and hauled him into the middle of the cabin.

  "Maybe you can fly; you sure don't hit me as being good for anythingelse," he said in deep disgust. "And I wouldn't be surprised right now tohear you swiped that pilot's license. If you did, and if you don't knowairplanes, the Lord help yuh--that's all I got to say. Get into yourpants. I'm in a hurry this morning."

  Bland Halliday nearly cried, but he managed to insert his aching limbsinto his trousers, and somehow he managed to move to the washbasin, andafterwards to hobble to the table. He let himself down by slow andpainful degrees into a chair, swore that he'd lie on the track and let atrain run over him before he would sit again on the back of a horse, andbegan to eat voraciously.

  Johnny listened, watched the food disappear, gave a snort, and fried morebacon for himself. His mood was not optimistic that morning. He was noteven hopeful. He had held an exalted respect for aviators, believing themall supermen, gifted beyond the common herd and certainly owning a finevalor, a gameness that surpassed the best courage of men content toremain close to earth. He had brought Bland Halliday away down here onlyto find that he lacked all the fine qualities which Johnny had taken forgranted he possessed.

  "Say! On the square, did you ever get any farther away from the groundthan an elevator could take you?" he asked bluntly, when he was finishinghis coffee after a heavy silence.

  "Ten thousand feet--well, once I went twelve, but I didn't stay up. Therewas a heavy cross-current up there, and I didn't stay. Why?"

  Johnny looked him over with round, unfriendly eyes. "I was justwondering," he said. "You seem so scared about getting on the back of ahorse--"

  "You ain't doing me justice," the aviator protested. "Every fellow to hisown game. I never was on a horse's back before, and I'll say I hope Inever get on one again. But that ain't saying I can't fly, because I can,and I'll prove it if you lead me to something I can fly with."

  "I'll lead you--right now. You can ride that far, can't you?"

  Bland Halliday thought he would prefer to walk, which he did, slowly andwith much groaning complaint. Earth and sky were wonderful with the blushof sunrise, but he never gave the miracle a thought.

  Nor did Johnny, for that matter. Johnny was leading Sandy, packed withthe repair stuff and a makeshift camp outfit for the aviator. He haddecided, during breakfast, to put Bland Halliday in the niche with theairplane, and leave him there. He had three very good reasons for doingthat, and ridding himself of Bland's incessant whining was not thesmallest, though the necessity of keeping Bland's presence a secret fromthe Rolling R loomed rather large, as did Johnny's desire to have someone always with the plane. He had no fear that Halliday would do anythingbut his level best at the repairing. He also reasoned that he would provea faithful, if none too courageous watchdog. That airplane was Bland'sone hope of escape from the country, since riding horseback was sounpopular a mode of travel with him.

  Thinking these things, Johnny looked back at the unhappily ploddingbirdman and grinned.

  He was not grinning when he rode away from the niche more than an hourlater, though he had reason for feeling encouraged. Bland Halliday didknow airplanes. He had proved that almost with his first comment when helimped around the plane, looking her over. His whole manner had changed;his personality, even. He was no longer the spineless, whining hobo; hewas a man, alert, critical, sure of himself and his ability to handle thejob before him. Johnny's manner toward him changed perceptibly. He evencaught himself addressing him as Mr. Halliday, and wanting to apologizefor his treatment of the aviator that morning.

  "We'll have to have a new strut here. You didn't get one in that outfit.And by rights we need a new propeller. There ain't the same thrust whenit's gravel-chewed like that. But maybe you can't stand the expense, sowe'll try and make this do for awhile. Say," he added abruptly, turninghis pale stare upon Johnny, "for cat's sake, how d'yuh figure I'm goingto replace them broken cables without a brazing outfit?"

  Johnny didn't know, of course. "I guess we can manage somehow," hehazarded loftily.

  "A hell of a lot you know about flying!" Bland Halliday snorted. "A lotof cable to fit, and no blowtorch, and you tell me we can manage!"

  "Every fellow to his own game," Johnny retorted, feeling himself slippingfrom his sure footing of superiority. "I can ride, anyway."

  "Well, I'll say I can fly. Don't you forget that. And here's where youtake orders from me, bo. I took 'em from you yesterday. Got pencil andpaper? I'll just make you out a list of what's needed here. And you getit here quick as possible."

  "Well, I can't ride in to town for a week, anyway. I've got to--"

  "That's your funeral, what you got to do. I've got to have the stuff towork with, and I've got to have it right off. At that, there's two weeks'work here, even if the motor's all right. I haven't looked 'er overyet--but seeing the gas tank is empty, I'm guessing she run as long asshe had anything to run on, and that they landed for lack of gas. Ifthat's the case, the motor's probably all right. I'll turn 'er over andsee, soon as you get gas and oil down here. And that better be right off.I can be working on the tail in the meantime. But believe me, it's goingto be fierce, working without half tools enough." Then he added, fixingJohnny with his unpleasant stare, "You'll have to hustle that stuffalong. I'll be ready for it before it gets here, best you can do. Send tothe Pacific Supply Company. Here, I'll write down the address. Bettersend 'em--lessee, a minute. Gimme the list again. You send 'em thirtybucks; what's left, if there is any, they'll return. Some of that stuffmay have gone up since I bought last. War's boosting everything. Allright--get a move on yuh, bo. This is going to be some job, believe me!"

  "All right. There's grub and blankets for you. You'll have to camp righthere, I guess. I don't aim to let the whole country know I've got anairplane--and besides, it will save the walk back and forth from yourwork. I'll see you again this evening."

  Bland Halliday looked around him at the blank rock walls and opened hismouth for protest. But Johnny was in the saddle and gone, and even whenHalliday cried, "Aw, say!" after him he did not look back. He followedJohnny to the mouth of the cleft and stood there looking after him with along face until Johnny disappeared into a slight depression, loped outagain and presently became, to the aviator's eyes, an indistinguishable,wavering object against the sky line. Whereupon Bland gazed no more, butwent thoughtfully back to his task.

>   It was some time after that when Mary V, riding up on a ridge a mile orso north of the stage road that linked a tiny village in the foothillswith the railroad, stopped to reconnoiter before going farther.Reconnoitering had come to be so much of a habit with Mary V that everylittle height meant merely a vantage point from which she might gaze outover the country to see what she could see.

  She gazed now, and she saw Johnny Jewel--or so she named the rider toherself--hover briefly beside the Sinkhole mail box nailed to a postbeside the stage road, and then go loping back toward the south as thoughhe were in a great hurry. Mary V watched him for a minute, turned tosurvey the country to the southwest, and discerned far off on the horizona wavering speck which she rightly guessed was the stage.

  She rode straight down the ridge to the mail box, grimly determined tolet no little clue to Johnny Jewel's insufferable behavior escape her.Johnny was up to something, and it might be that the mail box was worthinspecting that morning. So Mary V rode up and inspected it.

  There was not much, to be sure; merely a letter addressed to the PacificSupply Company at Los Angeles. Mary V held it to the sun and learnednothing further, so she flipped the letter back into the box and rode on,following the tracks Johnny's horse had made in the loose soil. She wasso busy wondering what Johnny was ordering, and why he was ordering it,that she had almost reached Sinkhole Camp before it occurred to her thatJohnny had that unpleasant stranger with him, and that it might beawkward meeting the two of them without any real excuse. Johnny himselfknew enough not to expect any excuse for her behavior. Strangers weredifferent.

  But she need not have worried, for the cabin was empty. Since Johnny hadnot washed the dishes, Mary V observed that two persons had breakfasted.She observed also that Johnny had been in so great a hurry to get thatletter to the mail box ahead of the stage that he had unceremoniouslypushed all the dishes to one side of the table to make space for writing.She picked up a paper on which an address that matched the letter in themail box and various items were scribbled, in a handwriting unlikeJohnny's, and she studied those items curiously. It was like a riddle.She could not see what possible use Johnny could have for a quart ofcabinet glue, for instance, or for a blowtorch, or soldering iron, orbrass wire, or for any of the other things named in the list. She sawthat the amount totaled a little over twenty-five dollars, and sheconsidered that a very extravagant sum for a boy in Johnny's humblecircumstances to spend for a lot of junk which she could see no sensein at all.

  Having set herself to the solving of a mystery, she examined carefullythe blue print laid uppermost on a thin pile of his lessons andcirculars. There were pencil markings here and there which seemed toindicate a special interest in certain parts of an airplane. There was aletter, too, from Smith Brothers Supply Factory. She hesitated before shewithdrew the letter from the envelope, for reading another's mail wasgoing rather far, even for Mary V in her ruthless quest of clues. But itwas not a personal letter, which of course made a difference. She finallyread it; twice, to be exact.

  Its meaning was not clear to Mary V, but she saw that it had to do withairplanes, or at least with certain parts of an airplane. She wondered ifJohnny Jewel was crazy enough to try and make himself a flying machine,away down here miles and miles from any place, and when he did not knowthe first thing about it. Perhaps that horrid man he had brought wasgoing to help.

  "Bland Halliday!" she said abruptly, memory flashing the name that fittedthe personality she so disliked. "I _knew_ I had seen him. That--whatevermade Johnny Jewel take up with _him_, for gracious sake? I suppose he'spersuaded Johnny to build a flying machine--the silly idiot! Well!"

  She waited as long as she dared, meaning to give Johnny some much-neededadvice and a warning or two. She planned exactly what she would say, andhow she would for once avoid quarreling with him. It would be a goodplan, she thought, to appeal to his conscience--if he had one, which sherather doubted. She would point out to him, in a kind, firm tone, thathis first duty, indeed, his only duty, lay in serving the Rolling Rfaithfully. Trying to build flying machines on the sly was not servingthe Rolling R, and Johnny could not fail to see it once she pointed itout to him.

  But Johnny was far afield, appeasing his conscience by riding the rangeand locating the horse herds. He did not return to camp at noon, for hefound it physically impossible to ride past the rock wall withoutturning into the niche to see what Bland Halliday was doing, and to makesure that the airplane was a reality and not one of his dreams.

  Bland was down under the corner of the damaged wing, swearing to himselfand tacking linen to mend the jagged hole broken through the covering bythe skid. He ducked his head and peered out at Johnny morosely.

  "Get down here and I'll show yuh how to do this, so I can go at thattail. I just wanted to get it started, so I could turn it over to you--incase you ever showed up again!"

  "I haven't time now to help," Johnny demurred. "I've got a big strip ofcountry to ride, this afternoon. The horses are scattered--"

  "Say, listen here, bo. You've got a big strip of linen to tack thisafternoon, and don't overlook that fact. Fast as we can, I want to get iton so the dope can be hardening. I've figured out how we can save time,so if the motor's all right, we can maybe get outa this damn country inten days. If you don't lay down on the job, that is, and make me do itall." He crawled out and got stiffly to his feet, rubbing a cramped elbowand eying Johnny sourly.

  "Can't help it, Bland; I've got other work to-day. Boss'll fire me if Idon't make--"

  "For cat's sake, what do I care about the boss? You're going to quitanyway, ain't you, soon as we're ready to fly?"

  "We-ell, yes, of course. But I'd have to give him time to get some one inmy place. They're working short-handed as it is. I couldn't just--"

  "You're laying down on me; that's what you're doing. Look how I've sweatall forenoon on that darned wing! Got the frame fixed, all ready for thelinen to go back on; I've _worked_ to-day, if anybody should ask you!Oughta have that glue, but I'm making out with what little old Abe sent.And you ain't lifted a hand. It ain't right. I can't do it _all_, and youride around once in awhile to stall me off with how busy you are. Youbetter can that stuff, and take a hand here."

  "Well, don't cry about it. I'll tack that linen on, if that's all that'sworrying you. But I can't stay long; I've spent too much time alreadyaway from my work. I oughta been riding yesterday, by rights."

  Bland Halliday looked at him queerly. "Me, I'd call that riding, what wedone," he retorted grimly. "I'm so sore I can hear my muscles squeak.Well, get down here and I'll show yuh how to stretch as yuh tack. And besure you don't leave a hair's breadth of slack anywheres, or it'll allhave to come off and be done over again."

  So that is where Johnny was, while Mary V waited for him at the cabinand puzzled her brain over his mysterious actions, and composed herspeech--and afterwards lost her temper.

  It was three o'clock before Johnny finally finished to the aviator'sgrudging satisfaction what had looked to be a scant half hour's work.Mary V had gone home, and it was too late for Johnny to catch a freshmount and make the ride he had intended to make. He made coffee and friedbacon and ate a belated lunch with Halliday, and then, since theafternoon was half gone, he let himself be persuaded--badgered wouldbe a better word--into spending the rest of the daylight helping Bland.

  If his conscience buzzed nagging little reminders of his real duty,Johnny's imagination and his ambition were fed a full meal ofanticipation, and he had the joy of being actually at work on an airplanethat he could proudly speak of as "my plane."

  But conscience nagged all the evening. He really must get out on therange to-morrow, no matter how urgent Bland Halliday made the workappear. He really must look over that other bunch of horses, and ridethe west fence. Ab-so-lutely without fail, that must be done.