Airship Andy Or The Luck of a Brave Boy Part 10

"Watch keep good time?"

"Yes, sir. The man who gave it to me was the man whom I took you for."

"Good timepiece."

"Splendid."

"U-m. What's your name?"

"Andy Nelson."

"I'm going to trust you, Andy Nelson; I don't think I will have any reason to regret it."

"I will try to deserve your confidence, Mr. Morse."

"Oh, you know my name?"

"Yes, sir. I heard Mr. Parks speak of you."

"I see-of course. I must be cautious after this, though. I had an idea that shaving off my beard would change my appearance, but as you recognized me, I must not be seen by outsiders without my goggles. Andy, I do not wish Mr. Parks to know anything about that handcuff affair of mine."

"All right, sir."

"I suppose it struck you suspiciously."

"It did at first," confessed Andy. "When I came to think it over, though, I remembered that I was in trouble and acting suspiciously myself. I knew that I was right in my motives, and I hoped you were."

"I'll tell you something, Andy," said the inventor. "It won't be much for the present, but later I may tell you a good deal more. A bad crowd have a hold on me, a certain power that has enabled them to scare me and rob me at times. I am an inventor. They knew that I was getting up a new airs.h.i.+p. They captured me and locked me up. They demanded a price for my liberty-that I would disclose my plan to them. I consented. They even forced me to make a working model. The night before the day I intended to complete it I made my escape, but handcuffed. You came along and helped me on the way to freedom. After I left the barge on the creek I got to the home of a friend, disguised myself, and came here and hired out with Mr. Parks."

"But your invention the rascals got away from you?"

"Let them keep it," responded the inventor, "so long as they do not trouble me again. There was a defect in the model they stole from me.

Unless they are smart enough to remedy it, they may find out they haven't made so big a haul as they antic.i.p.ate. Look here, Andy."

Mr. Morse beckoned our hero over to the work-bench and showed him a drawing.

"The work you see in the big room," he said, "is the skeleton of this machine. I am basing great hopes on it. I want to make a record in aviation, for I believe it will be the most promising field for inventors for many years to come. If you are going to work with us, you should know what is going on. This is my new model."

As Mr. Morse spoke, he became intent and eloquent. He lost himself in his enthusiasm as an inventor. Andy was a ready listener, and it was delightful to him to explore this marvel of machines.

"What I hope to accomplish," explained Mr. Morse, "is to construct a combined steerer and balancer on one lever. I aim to make this lever not only tilt the flyer to which it is attached on a transverse axis, but also on a longitudinal axis. It is called a double-action horizontal rudder, and if I succeed will give instantaneous control of a flying-machine under all conditions, be it a high wind or the failing of motive power. I combine with it a self-righting automatic balance. It is a brand-new idea. I thought those villains I have told you about had stolen my greatest idea, but this beats it two to one."

"Will they try to use the invention they stole from you?" inquired Andy.

"Of course they will-to their cost-if they are too rash," declared the inventor seriously. "That was a rudder idea, too."

"Tell me about it, Mr. Morse," pleaded Andy; "I am greatly interested in it all."

"I am going to tell you, Andy," responded the inventor, "because I believe the men who imprisoned me will try to enter the prize contest, and I want to keep track of them. I don't dare venture among them myself, but I may ask you to seek them out and bring me some news."

"Yes, sir," said Andy.

"The head man of the crowd is an old circus man named Duske. It is a good name for him, for he is dark in looks and deed. The idea they have stolen from me is this: In place of the conventional airs.h.i.+p rudder, I planned to equip the aeroplane with movable rear sections of pipe, the main sections of this pipe to extend the full length of the craft.

Suction wheels at each end of the main tube force the air backwards through the tube, the force of this air explosion driving the nose of the craft into the air when the movable section of the tube is raised, lowering it when it is pointed downwards, and providing for its lateral progress on the same principle. Do you follow me?"

"I can almost see the machine right before my eyes, the way you tell about it!" said Andy, with breathless enthusiasm.

CHAPTER X-LEARNING TO FLY

That was the first of many pleasant and interesting visits that Andy had with Mr. Morse, the inventor. By the end of the week the automobile boy had become an airs.h.i.+p enthusiast. Andy was charmed. When he was not pottering about the _Eagle_ or sailing the air with John Parks, he was with Mr. Morse in a congenial atmosphere of mechanics.

Although John Parks was now engrossed in using his glider, he had not given up using his dirigible balloon, and he also gave Andy some lessons in running this.

The dirigible was shaped like a fat cigar, and had under it a frame-work carrying a thirty horse-power motor and two six-foot suction wheels.

When there was no wind, the dirigible could sail quite well, but in a breeze it was hard to make much progress, and to use it in a high wind was entirely out of the question.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HE GAVE ANDY SOME LESSONS IN RUNNING THIS]

"The monoplanes and biplanes make the old-style balloons and the dirigibles take a back seat," said the Airs.h.i.+p King. "But, just the same, if your motor gives out, a dirigible is a nice thing to float down in."

"I like the dirigible," answered Andy. "But for speed, give me the new kind of flying machines."

Andy was in his element among the lathes, vises, saws, and general tools of the workshop. Once or twice he made practical suggestions that pleased Morse greatly. The inventor rarely left the camp, and when he did it was generally after dark. There was material and aeroplane parts to purchase. These commissions were entrusted to Andy, and he showed intelligence in his selections. Once he had to go fifty miles on the railroad to a factory to have some special devices made. He used such dispatch, and was so successful in getting just what was wanted by staying with the order till it was filled, that Mr. Morse warmly commended him to Parks.

Andy had drifted completely away from the old life. He was fast forgetting all about the Talbots and his former troubles at Princeville.

One day, in a burst of satisfaction over a trial flight Andy made alone in a monoplane, John Parks declared that he would not rest until he had made Andy the junior air king of America. Then Andy felt that he had found his mission in life, and pursued his new avocation with more fervor than ever.

About all Parks thought or talked of was the coming aero meet. Andy learned that he was investing over two thousand dollars in maintaining the camp and in building the machine with which he was to compete for the prize. His success would mean something more than the winning of the five thousand dollars. It would add to the laurels already gained as the Air King in his former balloon experience, and would make him a prominent figure in the aviation field.

"Come on, Andy," he said to his young a.s.sistant one afternoon. "We'll stroll over to the main grounds and see what new wrinkle these ambitious fellows are getting up."

They spent an interesting hour over in the main enclosure where prospective exhibitors were located. There was quite a crowd of visitors. Some of the aviators were explaining the make-up of their machines, and others were making try-out flights. Parks and Andy were pa.s.sing to the outfield where the test ascensions were in progress, when the former suddenly left the side of his companion.

Andy was surprised to see him hasten up behind a sinister-looking man, who was apparently explaining to an old farmer about the machines. Parks seized the man rudely by the arm and faced him around squarely. The latter scowled, and then a strange, wilted expression came into his dark face.

"Excuse this gentleman, if you will," said Parks to the farmer.

"Why, suttinly," bobbed the ruralite. "Much obleeged to him for being so perlite in showing me 'round."

Parks drew the shrinking man he had halted to the side of a tent.

"Now, then, Gib Duske," he said sternly, "what were you up to with that greenhorn?"

"He told you, didn't he?" growled the other; "showing him the sights."