Ethel Morton at Chautauqua Part 25

"If we've got to stay we might as well eat it," said Ethel Brown sulkily.

"Mary would like to see that you appreciated her thoughtfulness," said Mrs. Morton gently. "She has taken pains to make caramel custard to-day because she heard you say a little while ago that you 'adored' it."

"Good for Mary. I'm a Selfish Susy," declared Ethel Brown promptly.

"I'll eat two to make up for it," she added with a c.o.c.k of her head.

"O-oh," groaned Roger, "and me planning to take advantage of the dear children's sudden and unusual lack of appet.i.te!"

"Foiled again, villain!" declaimed Helen.

"Now, then, I'll race you to the beach," cried Roger as soon as dinner was over, and off they went, regardless of Grandmother Emerson's anxieties about the shock to their digestions.

After all, the hangar proved to be not much to see. There was a large tent to house the machine and there was a small tent for a dressing-room for the aviator and another to serve as a sleeping tent for his machinists who were also to act as watchmen against damage from a sudden storm or a heavy wind coming up in the night, or the too curious fingers of the inquisitive during the day.

The tents were entirely unremarkable, but drays were hauling from the freight station big boxes that contained the parts of the wonderful machine, and a rapidly increasing crowd stood about while their tops were unscrewed and the contents examined. A man who was directing the workers was proven to be the airman when some one called his name--Graham.

"It won't be a.s.sembled before to-morrow afternoon, I suspect," he had answered. "Then I'll try it out carefully. A man bird can't take any chances with his wings, you know."

"I'd like to ask him if he's going to take pa.s.sengers," whispered Ethel Brown, and Roger was so eager to find out that fact himself that he worked his way nearer and nearer to Mr. Graham when he heard some one put the question.

"It depends," answered that young man diplomatically. "If the machine works well I may do it. Or I may make only exhibition flights. I shan't know for a day or two."

"What'th it'th name?" asked d.i.c.ky, who had heard so much talk about birds that he thought Mr. Graham was bringing to light some bird pet.

"Its name?" repeated the aviator. "It hasn't a name, kid. It ought to have one, though," he went on thoughtfully. "You couldn't suggest one, could you?"

"Ith it a lady bird or a boy bird?" he asked.

"H'm," murmured Mr. Graham, seriously; "I never thought to ask when I bought it. We'll have to give it a name that will do for either."

"There aren't any," announced d.i.c.ky firmly. "There'th only boy nameth and lady nameth."

"Then we'll have to make up a name. It wouldn't be a bad idea," said Graham, turning to one of his a.s.sistants. "Why not offer a prize to the person who suggests the most suitable name?"

"It would help keep up the interest."

"It doesn't look as if that would need any outside stimulus," smiled Graham, glancing at the crowd, held back now by ropes stretched from posts driven down into the beach.

When darkness fell electric lights were rigged so that the machinists might go on with their work, and all through the night they matched and fitted and screwed so that by morning the great bird was on its feet. By noon the engine was snapping sharply at every trial, and when the waning light of six o'clock fell on the lake all was in such condition that Mr.

Graham was ready to make his first venture.

The Morton children were in the front rank of the crowd that thronged the grounds about the tents. An extra guard kept back the people who pressed too closely upon the preparations still under way, for a mechanical bird must be as carefully prepared for its flight as a horse for a race.

When all was well Mr. Graham mounted upon his seat. He wore just such a blue serge coat and just such white flannel trousers as a thousand men on the grounds were wearing, and the Mortons did not know whether to feel disappointed because his get-up was not more spectacular or to admire the coolness with which he stepped aboard for a flight that seemed to them fraught with peril in the every day garb of the ordinary man who never leaves the ground except in imagination.

"I like him this way," announced Ethel Blue. "It makes you feel as if he was so far from being afraid that he didn't even take the trouble to make any special preparations."

"I hoped he'd wear goggles and a leather suit and cap," said Roger, who was decidedly disappointed. "Those fellers look like some sports."

But if Mr. Graham's appearance was disappointing, his flight was all that their fancy had painted it and more. He mounted with apparent carelessness to his seat, and then the machine was pushed from the hangar to the beach. Leaving its beak in the water the helpers ran back and whirled its tail violently. A whir of remonstrance answered at once and the engine took up the complaint.

"There she goes! There she goes!" cried Roger and a hum of delight and wonder rose from the crowd.

Out into the water she swept, chugging noisily over the surface, her wings tipping gently from side to side as she sped. The people on the gallery of the Pier House cheered. Men waved their hats and women their hands.

"She's going up! See her rise?" they cried once more as the big bird's beak turned upward and the body followed with a swiftness that took the whole machine into the air while the spectators were guessing how long she would drag before she felt the wind under her wings.

And then, southward, straight southward, she flew, rising, ever rising until she was high in air and but a spot in the distance. Not until the spot had disappeared did the crowd breathe naturally.

"That's the most marvellous sight I ever saw!"

"I wonder how it feels."

"Wouldn't you like to try it?"

Then came a cry of "Here she comes back!" and in an incredibly short time, the engine's buzz once more struck their waiting ears. As he approached Chautauqua the airman sank lower and lower, until he looked like a mammoth bird darting toward one sh.o.r.e and then the other, swooping down to catch an insect, and rising again until the rays of the sinking sun glistened on his wings.

The Mortons were not the only Chautauquans who were eager to know if Mr.

Graham was going to take up pa.s.sengers. Never did he make a flight that he was not beset by would-be fliers urging their company upon him. Roger hung about with desire in his heart, but he never spoke to the aviator about it because he had seen so many grown men refused that he knew there was no chance for a boy.

One day, however, he overheard a conversation between Mr. Graham and one of his mechanics which put hope into his heart.

"I'm perfectly sure of her now," the airman said. "She flies like a real bird and I've got her tuned up just the way I want her. I believe I'll let the pa.s.sengers come on."

Roger went home delighted. The next day he was at the hangar long before any one else, and spoke diffidently to Mr. Graham's helper.

"I heard Mr. Graham say yesterday that he was going to take pa.s.sengers to-day," he said hesitatingly. "Of course I'm only a boy, but I do want to go up."

"Want to just as much as if you were a man, eh?" smiled the mechanician.

"I shouldn't wonder if you did. Have you got the price?"

That there should be a "price" had not occurred to Roger. He flushed as he said, "I don't know. How much is it?"

"Twenty-five dollars."

Roger drew a long whistle and turned away.

"No flying for me, until flying's free," he chanted drearily. "Forget that I spoke," he added, nodding to the young man.

"Too bad, old chap. Perhaps your ship will come in some day and then you for the clouds," he called cheerily after Roger's retreating form.

"Uh, huh," grunted Roger skeptically, for never had he had the sum of twenty-five dollars to do what he chose with, and he set about banishing the thought of flying from his mind for many years to come.

There was no lack of pa.s.sengers at any sum the aviator chose to ask, it seemed. All the Morton children were on the beach regularly at every flight and they saw man after man and woman after woman ascend. The novices always wore a nervously doubtful smile as they left the familiar ties of earth and water behind them and a laugh of delight as they came back unafraid and joyous.

"It looks as if it must be the most perfect feeling that you could have," sighed Ethel Blue as they watched a beaming woman approach over the water and then come down from her seat beside the air chauffeur.

"I'm like Roger--I could almost die happy if I could have just one fly."

"The airman has offered a prize for the best name for his machine,"