The Motor Maids Across the Continent Part 2

"If you put me down at any convenient place along the way, I'll be very much obliged. I'm going all the way to San Francisco."

"But so are we," cried the girls in one voice. "We're going across the continent."

The young man smiled for the second time, a charming smile which radiated his entire face and seemed to kindle two warm fires in his steady brown eyes.

"In this?" he asked.

"Why not?" Elinor was saying, somewhat on her mettle, when a motor cycle shot past them, stopped abruptly and a man jumped off and waited beside the road, signalling to them to stop the car.

"Pardon me, but may I ask if you saw an aeroplane fly past a little while ago?"

Before Billie, generally the spokesman, could reply, the young stranger broke in:

"We saw one, but it is out of sight now."

"Ah? Then it didn't fall. I thought I saw it drop. It looked very much as if he had lost control, but I was too far away to tell."

The man waited, but the four girls and Miss Campbell remained discreetly silent, and the wrecked aeroplanist leaned out and looked up skyward, as if he were searching the heavens for the lost airs.h.i.+p.

"Although aeroplanes are not very apt to fly about in great numbers,"

went on the man sarcastically, "I see you are not very observant when they are about. I bid you good-day," and touching his cap with his hand like a salute, he leaped on his motor cycle and sped down the road in a cloud of dust.

"Dear me," exclaimed Miss Campbell, "what a crusty individual! But why not have told him?"

"Because he happens to be my rival," answered the young man. "You see, a prize has been offered for the one who flies across the continent from San Francisco to Chicago in the shortest time. Most of the aeroplanists think the prize is too small for the risk, and so far only a few have entered. This fellow, Duval, doesn't want any rivals, and he has done everything he could to disqualify me for the race. He didn't recognize me, because he's only seen me in leather clothes with goggles and a cap on. You see, I decided at the last moment this morning to fly westward as far as I could. I suppose I am a good deal like the Irishman who was challenged to drink a pail of beer, and went into another room and drank one first to see if he could."

"But now you have no aeroplane," observed Nancy sadly.

"I have two. The other one was s.h.i.+pped to San Francisco. Duval has a great many reasons for keeping an eye on me. He wants to find out what kind of machine I'm going to use. I have kept that a profound secret, and he wants to know how good I am at flying. You see, no one has ever heard of me. I have never been to any public meets. I have only practised-at-at our place."

"But," interrupted Miss Campbell, "do you think you will be able to do this tremendous thing? Remember what you must cross? Not only the Rocky Mountains but the desert."

"It's just as easy to fly over a desert as over a prairie," answered the young man. "Not long ago a man flew from Italy over the Alps. If I hadn't sneezed this morning, I might have been sailing across the Illinois boundary this afternoon and been well on my way into Iowa."

Miss Campbell and the girls regarded him curiously. He appeared exceedingly self-confident and very sensible, but that sneezing business seemed a little thin.

"Do you mean to say," cried Billie incredulously, "that you expect to fly across the country without sneezing."

"I hope so," he replied. "It's a dangerous thing to sneeze in any flying machine, although the one I intend to use is of much finer make than that thing which just broke down."

Suddenly Nancy began to laugh.

"I believe you are guying us," she said.

The young man flushed.

"It would be a nice return for your kindness."

"Don't be offended," put in Elinor. "She's only teasing, herself."

It was now getting on toward noon. The crisp morning air had sharpened their appet.i.tes and it was agreed to stop at the next village for lunch.

In half an hour they had whirled into the main street of a prosperous-looking middle-west town.

The motor guide book directed them to Snyder's and they presently pulled up in front of a large frame building painted white with green shutters.

On the front piazza sat a number of men in armchairs, their feet on the railing, smoking and reading the morning papers.

Before they had time to get out, the aeroplanist said to Miss Campbell:

"I am deeply obliged to you for your kindness. My name is Peter Van Vechten. May I have the honor of asking your names?"

There was quite an old-world courtesy about this Peter Van Vechten that appealed to the little lady, and she promptly introduced her girls and herself.

Just at this moment a small racing car could be seen coming toward them at a terrific speed. People and vehicles scattered at its approach, but just before it reached the Comet it stopped short and a man jumped out and ran to them.

"All right, Jackson," said Peter Van Vechten. "I suppose you got wind that the aeroplane was wrecked and had a fright."

"I did, sir, indeed. But a farmer had watched through his gla.s.ses and he saw you get into a motor. Thank heavens, you're safe, sir."

"Through the kindness of these ladies," said Peter. "Is the luggage all here?"

"It is, sir."

"Then, with your permission, Miss Campbell, I will say good-by. Thank you again. Perhaps we may meet on the plains."

"What month is the race?" asked Billie.

"In July. It starts the Fourth of July."

"Good-by and good luck to you," they cried, as the departing aeroplanist leaped into the motor car beside the chauffeur, and in another moment they were out of sight.

For awhile things seemed rather dull to Miss Campbell and the Motor Maids, such a romantic halo encircles the head of him who flies through the air, and this ingratiating Peter Van Vechten, with his reddish hair and his keen brown eyes, also his polished manners, left a very deep impression on them all.

The luncheon was poor. It was early dinner, really, with cabbage and boiled mutton and very stiff-looking mashed potatoes, watery canned peas and leathery pie for dessert. They were glad to get back to the Comet again and glad to be on the road.

Already they seemed to have been traveling an endless time. But the first day of a long journey always affects people in this way. For some inexplicable reason they were a little homesick. The monotony of this level country oppressed them, endless green fields, which had once been vast prairie lands, covered with waving gra.s.s and a mult.i.tude of wild flowers.

Late that afternoon, when they stopped for gasoline at a garage in a thriving little village, a group of men stood about the door talking.

"Escaped in a flying machine?" said one.

"It's an up to date way to fly from justice," put in another.

"Yes, sir; I seen the paper myself at the hotel. He was a first-cla.s.s crook, and he left Chicago this morning early in one of the flying machines at the park, where they have been giving exhibitions. They telegraphed it all over the country when it was found out. I reckon he's the smartest crook in the world. The paper says 'he eluded his captors just as they were about to apprehend him; dashed through the hotel door and jumped in a taxi. At the park he showed a forged letter signed Peter Van Vechten, one of the aeroplanists, permitting him the use of one of the aeroplanes for practice before the exhibition, and in five minutes he was gone like a bird on the wing. It was only a little while later that the guardians at the parks found out their mistake. Whether he is still flying over the country or has lighted in some safe place, no one knows. So far there is no trace of him whatever.'"

Strange were the sensations of the Motor Maids and Miss Campbell as they listened to this remarkable tale.

The tank was filled, and Billie, after asking for the right road, started the machine. It was a silent and rather sad company.

They had traveled more than a hundred miles that day because it had been their object to leave the Middle West behind them as soon as possible, for the more romantic regions beyond.