Around the World in Ten Days Part 6

WHO'S AT THE WINDOW?

The making of a big airplane is a good-sized job. Especially is this the case with the first airplane made up from new plans. And when the job has to be done by no more than three young men, it becomes an unusually formidable task.

The loss of the blue-prints did not hold up the progress of our friends in the least, as it was only the matter of fifteen or twenty minutes'

work for Paul to make a new set from the tracings he had at home; but there were unexpected difficulties met here and there in the constructive work, as is always the case in large mechanical undertakings of an original nature, besides which the young builders ran into the usual delays caused by slow deliveries of parts and materials from distant dealers and manufacturers; and sometimes the railroads were tardy in transporting s.h.i.+pments.

All in all, the summer slipped away only too quickly, and it came time for Paul and Bob to go back to school again with Sky-Bird II not more than half finished. It is true that the long fuselage of the craft was done, with its graceful curves and splendid, roomy, enclosed cabin, accommodating five persons; but all concerned were a little disappointed that more progress had not been made. Mr. Giddings had been quite a frequent visitor at the fair-grounds all through the summer, lending a voice of encouragement throughout the operations. He looked really concerned, however, when Paul and Bob had to return to Clark Polytechnic Inst.i.tute for the new term of study.

"This is rather hard on us, isn't it, boys?" he observed, with a light laugh in which he unsuccessfully tried to conceal his anxiety. "Here we are with a half-completed airplane, a race staring us in the face for next summer, and two of our workmen s.n.a.t.c.hed away for the whole winter by the inexorable demands of school life, leaving only one lone fellow to finish the job."

"We'll be able to work Sat.u.r.days, dad," ventured Bob, trying to wedge a little bit of cheer into the gloomy prospect.

"And evenings. I'd be willing to work after supper every night for a couple of hours," proposed Paul.

"You won't do any such thing," came the firm answer. "While you are at school you two fellows need your evenings for rest and study, and your Sat.u.r.days for the school-team sports. Only when there isn't a game on in which you are a contestant will I allow you to help John on the machine--even if it isn't finished for five years. I have been thinking this situation over for some time, for I have seen it coming,"

went on the great publisher after a moment's pause; "and I have come to the conclusion that the best thing I can do to hustle our s.h.i.+p along is to call in another workman on the job, some chap we can trust and who knows how to handle tools. In fact, if he were a regular airplane mechanic it would be all the better."

John Ross spoke up at once. "Mr. Giddings," he said, "I think you have the right idea. Bob and Paul can't help me much from now on, and if we take that trip around the world next summer this machine must be done some weeks ahead, so that we can have a chance to test her out and tune her up. Now, it happens that Paul and I have a cousin--Tom Meeks--who is about my age and who flew in the same squadron with me over on the French front during the war. I will vouch for Tom's ability as a mechanic and flyer, also as to his trustworthiness. It happens my mother just received a letter from Tom's folks in Illinois the other day in which she said the factory had closed down in which he was working and he was out of a job."

"And you think this Tom Meeks would be willing to come up here, then, and help you this winter for the salary I am paying you?" questioned Mr. Giddings with interest.

"I think he would, sir."

"Then write to him immediately, and tell him to come right on."

In less than a week a strapping big young man, suitcase in hand, got off the train at the Yonkers depot, and was warmly greeted by his cousins, Paul and John Ross, who then introduced him to Bob Giddings.

Bob had been so eager to see the new helper on the airplane that he could not wait for a later meeting with him. He took instant liking to the jolly newcomer, who seemed to be ever smiling, and after a short exchange of conversation with him hurried home to tell his father what a splendid fellow Tom Meeks was.

Tom was domiciled in the Ross home, to which he had been a visitor in other years, and of course for the rest of that evening was kept busy visiting with Mrs. Ross and looking at the numerous miniature airplanes of Paul's. His praise of the little Sky-Bird, and particularly of the drawings of Sky-Bird II was very strong, and when he went to the fair-grounds the following morning with John and actually saw what a fine-looking s.h.i.+p the big craft was, he was stumped for words to express his full admiration.

Then while John and Tom went industriously to work, Paul and Bob rode away to Clark Polytechnic in New York with Mr. Giddings. Just before starting into the city that morning, the newspaper man had met Tom, and there was little doubt that he was well pleased with this addition to his force of workers. Of course Paul and Bob were sorry to have to interrupt their labors on Sky-Bird II, but there was no help for it, and there was some consolation in the thought that undoubtedly their instructors would let them work on some of the airplane's smaller parts as a portion of their school mechanical practice. This supposition indeed proved correct, and as the fall days pa.s.sed they found the two student chums not only partaking with full spirit in the sports of their comrades, but also contributing in no small measure to the progress of the work on the new airplane.

As a rule, Paul and Bob managed to stop in each Sat.u.r.day for at least an hour or so to lend some a.s.sistance to John and Tom, and when there were no school contests on, they spent practically the entire holiday in the hangar.

The cool days of November soon compelled the boys to install a couple of heating stoves in the big building, and after that the place was warm and cheery throughout the working day, no matter how bl.u.s.tery and nippy the weather. At night the coals were carefully banked with ashes, to keep up a fair degree of warmth until the following morning.

Up to this time nothing had been seen of any suspicious person lurking around the premises, but one afternoon late in the month, when Tom Meeks was working alone in the hangar and John had gone to town after some bolts, Tom thought he heard a strange sound at one of the two windows near the workbench.

Turning quickly from the wing-strut which he had been setting in place, Tom faced the window just in time to see a swarthy-looking countenance, adorned with a toothbrush-like mustache, pulled out of range. The mechanic had been informed of Bob's experience with the man who had evidently followed him to the grounds during the summer, also of the blue-prints which had been stolen, and now as he observed the similarity in looks between this eavesdropper and the reported shadow of Bob, he became quite excited.

With that lack of coolness and presence of mind characterizing a more reserved temperament, the impulsive Tom rushed straight up to the window, and peered out. Of course he could see nothing, for the peeper had been cute enough upon finding himself observed to keep close to the side of the building as he moved swiftly toward its rear.

Tom now seized the lower sash and tried to throw it up, so as to get a sidewise view. To his disgust he found it double-spiked, and realized that he had put that very second nail in himself upon first learning of the loss of the blue-prints.

"Huckleberry pie!" sputtered Tom, using his favorite expression when excited.

He whirled about and started for the door of the building. On account of the extensive size of the structure it was quite a little way to this. To make matters worse Tom dashed forward in such haste and flurry that he did not watch his step very closely; when he was about half-way to the door, his toe caught the protruding leg of an innocent sawhorse, and the next moment Tom Meeks and the sawhorse were both overturned.

"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.