Dick Hamilton's Airship Part 13

"Yes, and that was what made us fall."

"Well, I'm sure Larson monkeyed with it, and no one can make me believe anything else," said Jack, positively. "If he comes around here--"

"He isn't likely to," interrupted d.i.c.k. "The army aviators were sent to Texas, I believe, to give some demonstrations at a post there."

"You never can tell where Larson will turn up," murmured Jack.

d.i.c.k was shown the progress of the work, and was consulted about several small changes from the original, tentative plans. He agreed to them, and then, as it was only a question of waiting until his craft was done, he decided to call on some of his friends at Hamilton Corners.

Innis and Paul arrived in due season, and were delighted at the sight of d.i.c.k's big, new aircraft, which, by the time they saw it, had a.s.sumed more definite shape. Mr. Vardon and his men had worked rapidly.

"And that cabin is where we'll stay; is that it?" asked Paul, as he looked at the framework.

"That's to be our quarters," answered the young millionaire.

Paul was looking carefully on all sides of it.

"Something missing?" asked d.i.c.k, noting his chum's anxiety.

"I was looking for the fire escape."

"Fire escape!" cried d.i.c.k. "What in the world would you do with a fire escape on an airs.h.i.+p?"

"Well, you're going to carry a lot of gasolene, you say. If that gets afire we'll want to escape; won't we? I suggest a sort of rope ladder, that can be uncoiled and let down to the ground. That might answer."

"Oh, slos.h.!.+" cried d.i.c.k. "There's going to be no fire aboard the--say, fellows, I haven't named her yet! I wonder what I'd better call her?

"Call her the Abaris," suggested Innis, "though he wasn't a lady."

"Who was he?" asked d.i.c.k. "That name sounds well."

"Abaris, if you will look in the back of your dictionary, you will note was a Scythian priest of Apollo," said Innis, with a patronizing air at his display of knowledge. "He is said to have ridden through the air on an arrow. Isn't that a good name for your craft, d.i.c.k?"

"It sure is. I'll christen her Abaris as soon as she's ready to launch. Good idea, Innis."

"Oh, I'm full of 'em," boasted the cadet, strutting about.

"You're full of conceit--that's what you are," laughed Paul.

Suddenly there came a menacing growl from Grit, who was outside the airs.h.i.+p shed, and d.i.c.k called a warning.

"Who's there?" he asked, thinking it might be a stranger.

A rasping voice answered:

"It's me! Are you there, Nephew Richard? I went all through the house, but n.o.body seemed to be home."

"It's Uncle Ezra!" whispered d.i.c.k, making a pretense to faint.

"I've come to pay you a little visit," went on the crabbed old miser.

"Where's your pa?"

"Why, he's gone to New York."

"Ha! Another sinful and useless waste of money! I never did see the beat!"

"He had to go, on business," answered d.i.c.k.

"Humph! Couldn't he write? A two cent stamp is a heap sight cheaper than an excursion ticket to New York. But Mortimer never did know the value of money," sighed Uncle Ezra.

Grit growled again.

"Nephew Richard, if your dog bites me I'll make you pay the doctor bills," warned Mr. Ezra Larabee.

"Here, Grit! Quiet!" cried d.i.c.k, and the animal came inside, looking very much disgusted.

Uncle Ezra looked in at the door of the shed, and saw the outlines of the airs.h.i.+p.

"What foolishness is this?" he asked, seeming to take it for granted that all d.i.c.k did was foolish.

"It's my new airs.h.i.+p," answered the young millionaire.

"An airs.h.i.+p! Nephew Richard Hamilton! Do you mean to tell me that you are sinfully wasting money on such a thing as that--on something that will never go, and will only be a heap of junk?" and Uncle Ezra, of Dankville, looked as though his nephew were a fit subject for a lunatic asylum.

CHAPTER X

BUILDING THE AIRs.h.i.+P

Grit growled in a deep, threatening voice, and Uncle Ezra looked around with startled suddenness.

"I guess I'd better chain him up before I answer you," said d.i.c.k, grimly. "Here, old boy!"

The bulldog came, unwillingly enough, and was made secure.

"An--an airs.h.i.+p!" gasped Uncle Ezra, as though he could not believe it.

"An airs.h.i.+p, Nephew Richard. It will never go. You might a good deal better take the money that you are so foolishly wasting, and put it in a savings bank. Or, I would sell you some stock in my woolen mill.

That would pay you four per cent, at least."

"But my airs.h.i.+p is going to go," declared the young millionaire. "It's on the same model as one I've ridden in, and it's going to go. We're sure of it; aren't we, Mr. Vardon?"

"Oh, it will GO all right," declared the aviator. "I'm sure of that.

But I don't guarantee that you'll win the prize money."

"What's that? What's that?" asked Uncle Ezra in surprise. He was all attention when it came to a matter of money. "What prize did you speak of?"

"Didn't you hear, Uncle Ezra?" inquired d.i.c.k. "Why, the United States government, to increase the interest in aviation, and to encourage inventors, has offered a prize of twenty thousand dollars to the first person who takes his airs.h.i.+p from the Atlantic to the Pacific, or rather, from New York to San Francisco with but two landings. I'm going to have a try for that prize!"