Part 6 (2/2)

”Huckleberry pie!” gasped the big fellow. His right s.h.i.+n hurt like fury, but he would not stop to examine it, and covered the remaining distance to the door in very ludicrous limping jumps. Das.h.i.+ng around the front of the building, he reached the corner which gave him a view of the side.

Not a soul was in sight. Not to be outdone completely, Tom hurried along the side of the building. As he came near the rear end he saw a slender figure just clambering over the highboard fence of the field in the rear of the hangar.

Lame as he was, big Tom knew there was no chance of his overtaking the fleet-footed and cunning stranger, so he returned to his work very much crestfallen in spirit.

When John heard what had happened, on his return to work, he was considerably disturbed, and suggested to his comrades the advisability of placing a night-guard on the premises for a while at least, since this unknown enemy might make an effort some night to burn or irreparably damage the Sky-Bird. The others sanctioned this precaution, and thereafter took turns in watching, although this vigilance was apparently all for naught, as no suspicious character appeared.

CHAPTER VIII

THE SKY-BIRD II

”Well, Mr. Giddings, what do you think of Sky-Bird II?” asked John Ross, one memorable day.

There was a smile of deep satisfaction on John's own bronzed features as he put the question, a smile which was duplicated on the faces of his three co-workers--Paul, Bob, and Tom Meeks. It was the latter part of March, Easter vacation week for Paul and Bob, and the two chums had been working every one of the last three days helping John and Tom put the finis.h.i.+ng touches on the big new airplane. And now this Friday morning it rested gracefully upon its own rubber-tired wheels, its great stretch of wings spread out as airily as those of a monster bird, its huge two-bladed propeller glistening like burnished silver, and its body running backward in a splendid symmetrical taper, to end at the well-proportioned tail. Sky-Bird II was done at last.

Mr. Giddings was so lost in admiration at the beautiful lines of the craft that he did not reply immediately to John's question. He had not seen it for almost two weeks, and in that time, under the onslaughts of the four boys, it had changed appearance in a striking way, numerous finished parts having been connected and paint and varnish having been applied.

”All I have to say, young men, is that if she performs anywhere near as well as she looks, I shall be thoroughly satisfied with the money I have invested thus far,” declared the great newspaper man with an enthusiasm which he did not try to conceal. His eyes were s.h.i.+ning, as he walked around the craft looking at it from all sides. He rubbed his fingers lingeringly over the smooth fuselage, and smiled quietly as he regarded the name ”Sky-Bird II” lettered in large blue characters on her sides and underneath each long bird-like wing. Then he mounted a folding step and went through a neat door into the gla.s.s-surrounded cabin. This was deep enough to stand up in, and provided comfortable upholstered cane seats for the pilot and four pa.s.sengers or a.s.sistants.

All of these seats except the pilot's and observer's were convertible, forming supports for the swinging of as many hammocks, and in a small s.p.a.ce at the rear was a neat little gasoline-burner, and over it a built-in cupboard containing some simple aluminum cooking ware.

”Well, I declare!” said Mr. Giddings in amazement at the convenience of things, ”it looks as if you fellows hadn't left out a single item needed in a long and enjoyable cruise.”

”There's nothing like being fixed up for all emergencies, sir,” laughed John. ”As you notice, we have everything for night-flying as well as day-flying. With such a machine as this there is no reason why a crew of four or five could not run nights as well as days, two operating while the others sleep in the hammocks. Cold foods can be cooked or warmed up on the gas-stove when needed, and the enclosed cabin protects all hands from the worst effects of bad storms.”

”Wouldn't this gla.s.s break in a hailstorm?” asked Mr. Giddings. ”It seems to be pretty thin.”

”It is thin,” said Paul; ”that is to give it lightness. It might check some in a hailstorm, but it could not break out, as it is made of two layers of gla.s.s between which is cemented a thin sheet of celluloid.”

”I think you had two Liberty motors here in the hangar when I was here last. I neglected to ask you the power of these, and what you need two for,” observed Mr. Giddings. ”I thought you said in the beginning that you considered one 400 horse-power engine of sufficient strength to carry this plane at a fast clip.”

”It is this way, sir,” responded John. ”The regular big biplane of the bomber type carries two propellers with an engine for each propeller.

If one motor fails them when flying, about all the other is good for is to make a landing with. By reason of the great lightness of our airplane one good 400 horse-power motor is all we need for pulling purposes. But suppose this should fail, as any motor might do? We could not continue, any more than the other fellow, and would have to volplane to the ground. Again, suppose we wished to fly continuously more than twelve hours? We could not do so, as such a steady run would heat the best motor and ruin it. These two Liberty motors, which we have, overcome all these troubles. Both are so arranged that a simple switch connects and disconnects either one with the propeller, and both can be put at work at the one time if needed in a bad storm. If one stalls, the other can immediately be thrown in and a forced landing obviated. Moreover, if we could get fuel when needed, with this arrangement I am safe in saying we could fly steadily day and night, resting one motor and working its mate, for a week or more.”

”What is this?” As he spoke the publisher touched a peculiar-looking helmet hanging from a hook near the pilot's seat.

Bob laughed. ”Why, don't you recognize the products of your talented son, dad?” he cried, as he took the object down and clapped it over his father's iron-gray head. ”That's my new wireless telephone headpiece, and right underneath it here is the mahogany cabinet containing the sending and receiving instruments. You see, these two wires run from the plug up to the receivers, there being one receiver in each side of the helmet, right over your ear, pressing against the ear tightly by means of a sponge-rubber gasket.”

”A man looks like a padded football player with this thing on,” said Mr. Giddings with a smile. ”Why is a helmet required at all?”

”We wouldn't require it so much with these motors, as they are equipped with a new kind of m.u.f.fler which shuts out about four-fifths of the noise other airplanes get,” explained Bob. ”But for all that there are always noises in airplanes; for instance, they say the whirr of the propeller when it is revolving about 1450 revolutions per minute, or at the full speed of this one, makes quite a roar; so you see the need of the helmet to shut out all undesirable sounds possible. In ordinary planes the crew cannot talk to each other except by using phones or putting their lips to each other's ears and yelling at the top of their voices, according to what John and Tom tell me. But we don't expect to have that trouble in this enclosed cabin and with this new m.u.f.fler working, do we, fellows?”

”I'm sure we won't,” said John.

”Not if I'm any judge,” grinned Tom.

”Can you talk with a ground station when you're flying, say a couple of miles high?” asked Mr. Giddings, examining a transmitter attached to a yoked wire support which his son slipped over his shoulders.

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