Mr. Hawkins' Humorous Adventures Part 18

We were going up! Also, I was startled to note that the high wind was driving us down-town at a rapid pace.

"See here, Hawkins!" I said. "What does this mean?"

"M-m-means that a big wind has caught us," replied the inventor with a sickly smile.

"And when do you suppose it's going to let go of us?"

"Well--we--we may be able to catch one of those high roofs over there,"

murmured Hawkins with a.s.surance that did not rea.s.sure. "You--you know we can't go up very far, Griggs. This thing was not built for flying."

"For anything that wasn't made for the purpose, it's doing wonders," I retorted. Then a sudden puff sent us up fully ten feet. "Heavens! There goes our chance at those roofs!"

"Dear me! So it does!" muttered the inventor as we sailed gracefully over the chimney-tops. "How unfortunate!"

"It'll be a lot more unfortunate when we pitch down into the street!" I snarled.

"Now, Griggs," said Hawkins argumentatively as we sped down-town on the steadily rising wind, "why do you always take this pessimistic view of things? Can't you see--is it beyond your little mental scope to realize that we have fairly fallen over a great discovery, something that men have been seeking for ages? Don't you comprehend, from the very fact of our being up here and still rising that these wings accidentally embody the vital principles of the dirigible----"

"Oh, dry up!" I growled as we flitted swiftly past a church steeple.

Hawkins regarded me sadly, and I sadly regarded the street below and tried to a.s.similate the fact that we were two hundred feet above the ground and rising at every puff of wind; that we were in a crazy clothes-basket, suspended from a crazier pair of wings, absolutely at the mercy of the breeze and likely at any moment to drop to eternal smash!

I did realize, without any effort, that my lower limbs were developing excruciating shooting pains from the cramped position.

The time pa.s.sed very slowly. The houses below pa.s.sed with astounding rapidity.

I thought of our wives, sitting calmly in my home, ignorant of our plight. I wondered what their sentiments would be when some kindly ambulance surgeon had brought home such fragments of Hawkins and me as might have been collected with a dust-pan and brush.

I wondered whether the accursed Anti-Fire-Fly would dump us out and flutter away into eternity, to leave our fate unexplained, or whether it would accompany us to our doom and be found gloating over the respective grease-spots that would represent all that was mortal of Hawkins and myself.

And at about this point in my meditations, I noted that we were sailing over Union Square.

"Isn't it fine?" cried Hawkins enthusiastically. "You never came down-town like this before, Griggs."

"I never expect to again, Hawkins," I sighed.

"Why not? Why, Griggs, this thing is only the nucleus of my future airship, and yet see how it floats! Oh, I've thought it all out in the last five minutes. It's astonishing that it never occurred to me before.

Now, these wings, you see, are so constructed----"

"See here, Hawkins," I said, "do you mean to say that you expect to get out of this thing alive?"

"Certainly," replied the inventor in astonishment. "There's no danger. I can see that now, although I was a trifle startled at first. It's only a matter of minutes when we shall go near enough to one of those big office buildings to grab it and stop ourselves."

"And clamber down the side--twenty or thirty stories?"

"And even if we can't land, we shan't fall. The construction of these wings is such----"

"Oh, hang the construction of your wings!" I cried. "We're going right toward the bay--suppose the wind dies down and lets us into the water?"

"Well, these wings are water-proof, you know," said Hawkins. "They might----"

"Yes, and the bay might dry up, so that we could walk back if we escaped being broken in pieces, Hawkins," I sneered.

Hawkins subsided. The breeze did not.

It was one of the most impolitely persistent breezes I have ever encountered. It seemed bent on landing us in New York harbor, and before many minutes we were suspended high above that expansive, and in some circ.u.mstances, charming body of water.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "_Before many minutes we were suspended high above that expansive, and in some circ.u.mstances charming, body of water_."]

Furthermore, having wafted us something like a quarter of a mile from sh.o.r.e, it proceeded to die out in a manner which was, to say the least, disheartening.

Hawkins grew paler by perceptible shades as we progressed, ever nearer the water and farther from hope; and it was not until I opened my mouth to vent a few last invidious criticisms of him and his methods that the inventor's face brightened.

"By Jove, Griggs! Look! That ferry-boat! That fellow on the roof! He's got a boat-hook! Hey! Hey! Hey! you!"

The individual gazed aloft and nearly collapsed with astonishment.

"Catch us!" bawled the inventor frantically. "Catch the basket with that hook! We want to come aboard! Hurry up!"

The boat was going in our direction and rather faster. The man on the roof seemed to comprehend. He reached up with his hook. He leaped a couple of times in vain.

And then we felt a shock which told of our capture! I breathed a long, happy sigh.

In dealing with Hawkins' inventions, long, happy sighs are premature unless you are positive that your entire anatomical structure is complete, and likewise certain that the contrivance lies at your feet in a condition of total wreck.

The basket was suspended from a thin, steel frame, from which several dozen stout cords rose to that idiotic pair of wings. When we were fairly caught, Hawkins cried:

"Now, Griggs, stand up and catch the frame and pull the whole business down with us. And you, down there, pull hard! Pull hard, now!"

I seized the steel frame on one side, Hawkins on the other, and we pulled. And the man with the boat-hook pulled. And at the psychological moment the wind rose afresh and pulled at the wings with a mighty pull!

Some seconds of dizzy swirling in the air, and the clothes-basket portion of the Anti-Fire-Fly lay on the roof of the ferry-boat, while Hawkins and I hung far above, entangled in the cords and clutching them wildly and rising steadily once more!

"Great Caesar's ghost!" gurgled the inventor. "This is awful!"

"Awful!" I gasped when breath had returned. "It's--it's----"

"Lord! Lord! We're going straight for Staten Island. Don't move, Griggs."

"I can't," I said. "I'm caught tight here. Good-by, Hawkins."

"We're--we're not done for yet," quavered that individual. "We may hit land. But isn't--isn't it terrible?"

"Oh, no," I groaned. "It's all right. No more climbing down red-hot ladders through belching flames! No more throwing children from----"

"Don't joke, Griggs," wailed Hawkins. "I will say I'm sorry I got you into this."

"Thank you, Hawkins," I said, nearly strangled by a cord which persisted in twisting itself about my neck. "So am I."