Famous Flyers Part 5

"Great!" said Bob.

But Hal was just a little sick. He said nothing, and waited for the world to settle down again.

"You sure handle the s.h.i.+p like you used to in the old days," said Hank admiringly to Bill.

"She's a great s.h.i.+p," said Bill, modestly.

Hank had an idea. "Say," he said impulsively, "how would you like to fly her while I'm in Europe?"

"Gee, Hank, I really don't think"-began Bill. He thought, the same old Hank, always generous, always impulsive.

But Hank was going on with his plan. "Listen, I won't take 'no' for an answer. You fly my plane. And you can fly it up to the Canadian cabin if you want to. Then a perfectly swell vacation plan won't be entirely thrown away. How about it? The cabin is all ready to move into. They've been fixing it up for me. What do you say? Are you game?"

"Game?" said Bill. "Gee, I'm crazy about the idea. But I don't see why you should do this for me."

Hank was embarra.s.sed. "You've been pretty decent to me in other times, remember that, Bill, old boy," he said.

"Forget it," said Bill.

Hank turned to the boys. "Bill here shot down a Boche when the Boche was all but stepping on my tail. Those were the days, eh, Bill?"

"You bet," said Bill. "We sure were glad to get back alive. Remember old Lufbery? Raoul of the Lafayette Escadrille? There was a boy who could shoot them down. Six out of seven in one day. Not bad flying, that. They used to get pretty close to Raoul themselves. He'd come in with his clothes ripped with bullets, but ready to go right out again with the next patrol. Then one day he got his, and there wasn't a man there that wouldn't have given everything he had to save him, either. He'd gone up after a German that n.o.body seemed able to down. Lufbery climbed up to get above him, and dove. But something went wrong with his plane-G.o.d knows what, and those who were watching from the ground saw it burst into flame. Then they saw him stand on the edge of the c.o.c.kpit and jump.

It was horrible. But it was the only way for Lufbery to die-with his plane. He wanted it that way."

Then Hank said, "And Bill Thaw! There was another flying fool. Bill was great fun-always laughing and joking, just as if his next flight might not be his last. Remember what he did to those three German planes when they got fresh with him, Bill?" He turned to the boys. "Thaw," he explained, "was coming back from his regular patrol, when he suddenly came face to face with three German planes. One of them maneuvered to his left, the second to his right, and the third dove below him to fire up. Well, Bill had to think fast, and he did. He side-slipped until he was directly over the plane below him, and fired down. One gone. Then he pulled himself out of a steep dive, and went after the second plane. A quick swoop, and a steep bank, a rapid burst of fire, and the second German went down in a burning nose dive.

"From then on it was nip and tuck, and each man for himself, dog eat dog. It was a pretty even battle. The German was plucky, and ripped into Thaw for all he was worth. But one lucky turn, one accurate shot, and Thaw had him. Down went his plane. Thaw, his plane in ribbons, his clothes bullet-riddled, limped home, stepped out of his plane with a smile, and a joke on his lips."

"Golly," said Bob, "that must have been great fun. I wish I'd been there."

"What would we have done with a baby in swaddling clothes?" laughed Bill.

"Aw," said Bob, "you know I mean if I was old enough."

Hank was looking into the distance, with the far-away look that meant another story was coming on, and Bob stopped talking.

Finally Hank said, "Remember Luke and Wehner? What a team! You never saw two men so different in your life. Frank Luke talked a lot-not always the most modest fellow in the world, either, and made a great to-do about everything he did. But he sure did plenty of damage to the Germans. Joe Wehner was quiet, modest, never talked very much, and never about himself. But still they were always together. Came to be known as 'The Luke and Wehner Duo.'

"They worked together, too. Went out on the same patrol and always stuck together. Luke's specialty was shooting down Drachens. Those were the German observation balloons that they sent up behind their lines to observe what was going on in the American lines. Of course, the information they got caused plenty of harm, and anybody who shot down a Drachen was doing a lot of good. But the things were expensive and useful, and the Germans sent them up with plenty of protection. There was always a swarm of planes flying around them and ready to light into any stranger that came near.

"Luke and Wehner used to take care of that. Wehner would fly above Luke, looking out for any plane that might come to attack him. If one hove in sight, Wehner would go for him and engage him while Luke flew on and shot down the balloon. Balloon after balloon went down. The Germans were getting wary.

"One day when Luke and Wehner were on their way to see what they could do about three Drachens that were watching the American lines, they met up with a formation of Fokkers. Wehner dived into the uneven battle.

Luke flew on, and shot down one, then the other bag. But the gallant Wehner had fought his last fight. One of the Fokkers downed him. Luke, who saw what had happened to his pal, left the remaining balloon and furiously charged the Fokkers. He fought like mad, zooming, diving, spurting fire into those German planes. Two of them hurtled to the ground. The others fled. Luke started for home. On his way he engaged and downed another enemy plane. It was a record that on any other day he would have boasted about. But not that day. His pal had been killed, and Luke was for once silent and speechless.

"Of course, he didn't give up balloon breaking. He added up a goodly store. But one day he got his, like so many of them. He'd sent three Drachens down in flames that day, when his own plane was so badly crippled, and he was so badly wounded that he was forced to land. He wouldn't let them take him, though, and he died fighting. When a band of German soldiers approached him, he pulled out his gun and shot six of them before he fell dead."

It was Bill's turn. "Of course you boys have heard of Eddie Rickenbacker. There was an ace for you. If it was speed and trick flying that you wanted, Eddie was the man to give it to you. He had a bag of tricks that would get any pursuit plane off his tail. But he didn't always use them. He didn't have 26 planes to his credit for nothing.

Eddie was a great ace and a great scout."

Hank interrupted. "Here we go ga.s.sing again like two old fogies. I feel like my own grandfather sitting on the front porch and discussing the battle of Bull Run. We are getting old, aren't we, Bill? These youngsters ought to be glad that they didn't have to fly those old buses that we used, though. The new planes are great to fly. You two are going to have a grand time. I'd rather fly than travel any other way. But I don't think that it would be quite the thing to suggest to my wife now that I would rather fly to Europe with her than take the boat. So old Hank will be a land animal this time. Or rather, a water animal, instead of a bird."

"A sort of-fish?" laughed Bill.

"Shut up, you," said Hank. "Now, listen, how about that offer of my cabin and my plane for your vacation? It'll be a grand trip, and I guarantee that you'll like the cabin on the mountain. n.o.body around for miles, except Jake, who takes care of the place for me. In fact, there's no town for a hundred miles around. About the only practical way of getting there is by plane. Just think, old man, all of that beauty and solitude going begging. You can get right back to nature there, live a wild life, or have all the conveniences of home, whichever you chose.

We've got the place all fixed up. It's a real man's place, and you'll love it. And I'd like to see somebody who'd appreciate it have it this summer. And I know you would."

Bill looked at Hank, who was talking so earnestly, with a puzzled look.

"Listen, Hank," he said, "you aren't trying to persuade me to go up there as a favor to you, are you? Because if you are, you're crazy. It's certainly not you who should be doing the begging. We ought to be down on our hands and knees begging you for the place. The only reason I hesitate at all is because I think it's too much you're doing for us."

Hank snorted. "Then you're going to take the place."

Bill looked at him fondly, seeing through the strange marks that time had left on this man, the young, awkward boy whom he had befriended in France, when he had been just a young fellow himself, but not so green as the other. Then he said, "What do you say we leave it up to the boys?" He turned to them. "What do you say, Bob? How does a vacation up in the mountains sound to you?"

Bob, his eyes s.h.i.+ning, could hardly answer. He hadn't wanted to show too much eagerness before because he had remembered his manners just in time, and was watching Bill to see how they should respond to Hank Brown's generous offer. But now that he saw that Bill was favorably disposed, he breathed, "Oh, gee, I think that it would be great! Just great! Let's go, Bill."

Hank was amused and pleased by this enthusiasm.

The Captain turned to Hal. "How about you?"

Hal, who had forgotten his misery during the recital of the exciting stories of war aces, and was once more fired with ambition, now that he was safely on the ground, was almost as enthusiastic. "But," he said as an afterthought, "I don't know whether I could go, of course. My mother-" his voice trailed off.

Bill reached over and grasped Hank's hand. "We'll take it, old scout.

Don't know how to thank you."

"Don't," said Hank. "I'm glad you're going to go. All you have to do is to wire to Jake when you're coming. He lights bonfires to mark the landing field, and there you are. I'm going to be in town for two weeks, so you can come up any time to make arrangements. O.K.? Now I've got to go. I've been spending too much time as it is. Wish I could stay and see Pat, but I can't. Tell him to come up and see me, will you?"

He bid them goodbye and left in his automobile which had been parked nearby. The next hour was spent in an exciting inspection of the various planes in the airport, from tiny two-seater monoplanes that looked like fragile toys, to huge biplanes; and in a growing impatience with Pat's delay. Finally a tiny speck appeared on the horizon, but the three of them had been disappointed so often that they did not dare to hope that this was at last Pat McDermott. But it was. He stepped out of the green monoplane and pus.h.i.+ng up his goggles, looked around him. He spied his three friends immediately, and hurried to meet them.

"Hi, Iris.h.!.+" called Captain Bill. "I want you to meet two pals of mine."

He introduced Bob and Hal. "We're going to teach them to fly."

The two boys shook hands with Pat. He looked like his name, a tall, broad, husky man with a shock of curly hair that had probably once been red, but which was now brown, with a little gray at the temples; a young face-it was impossible to tell how old he was; and a broad grin that spread across his face and up around his eyes, disappearing into the roots of his hair.

"Well," he said, without ceremony, as though he had been friends of theirs for years, "They'll make good flyers if they're not too lazy. And if anybody can make you work, I can. And I will."

The Captain laughed. "Don't take Pat seriously," he said. "He's too lazy to make you work very hard. But let me warn you that he's trained army flyers, so you'd better not mind what he says, while he's teaching you."

The boys had gone over and were looking at the Marianne. She was a beautifully stream-lined craft, large yet graceful.

Pat noticed the boys' admiration, and was pleased. "How about taking a ride in her now?" he asked.

"They just got down to earth," said the Captain. He explained about Hank and Hank's plane. Pat was delighted that their old pal had turned up, and decided that they would have to have a reunion very soon. He also decided on the spot that he was going along with them to the mountains.

"Try to keep me away. Although I don't much fancy the riding on cus.h.i.+ons, in a fancy plane. When I fly, I want to fly. But if you let me do the piloting, I'll make the best of that." Pat always decided things that way, but n.o.body resented his high-hand manner, since he looked, and was, the sort of man who could make good on any job he undertook. "Well, Bob, my lad," he said, turning to the boy, "how about going up? It's the first step in learning to fly. And don't think that it's going to be like cabin flying. You'll notice the difference when you get up. Ready?"

"Sure," said Bob.

Pat produced a helmet and some goggles. "It's an open c.o.c.kpit you're sitting in," he said. "And see that the goggles fit tightly."