Around the World in Ten Days | Page 4

of such wonderfully
ingenious workmanship, that John, who had won unusual honors as an
aviator on the French front, was quite thunderstruck, and determined to
encourage Paul's talents in this line in every way he could. Therefore,
when the boy graduated from the Yonkers high school, and expressed a
wish to take up a special course in aeronautical engineering at Clark
Polytechnic Institute, John backed him up, and the mother, who would
have preferred a less hazardous profession for her younger son,
sighingly consented.
Paul's chum, Robert Giddings, had also gone to Clark Polytechnic upon
leaving high school, his ambition being to become an electrical
engineer. Thus both boys continued to be thrown in daily contact. It
was their habit to go into the city to school each morning in the sedan
with Mr. Giddings; but as he left the city late in the afternoon they
usually took the train back.
As the friends now parted, Bob Giddings' last words were: "Don't
forget to get that new model airplane done by Saturday, Paul. I'm crazy
to see it."
"I'll be ready for you," was Paul's assurance; "but remember to keep
this under your hat. It's to be a secret test, you know."
"Trust me," said Bob.

CHAPTER II
THE BROTHERS' INVENTION
When Paul Ross reached home that afternoon, it was to find someone
there whom he had not expected to see. A tall, broad-shouldered young
man, with a bronzed face and pleasant blue eyes, sat in the living-room,
talking to his mother.
Paul rushed forward and joyfully grasped his brown hand. "Why,
John!" he exclaimed, "I didn't expect to find you here!"
"Of course you didn't, Buddy," was the smiling response of the young
man, who was wont to call his younger brother by this affectionate
war-mate term. "The fact is, as I was just telling mother, two days ago I
didn't know myself that I would be anywhere at this hour except
speeding through the air between New York and Washington on my
usual mail run in my trusty old Martin-bird. As it is, Buddy, it looks
now as if neither you nor I would ever handle her controls again."
There was a note of sadness in John's voice as he said this.
"Why, what's the matter, John?" asked Paul quickly.
"It's this way, lad: You know I told you and mother a couple of weeks
ago, when I was here on my last regular lay-over, that Congress was
talking about cutting a big slice out of the Air Mail appropriation, in
order to reduce expenses. Well, the upshot of it all is, they made the cut,
and not having enough money to carry on the service as it has been, the
head of the Air Mail has ordered the abandonment of all flying
divisions except the main line between New York and San Francisco.
Only those pilots will be kept. So that's why I am here."
"Won't they take you on again soon, John?" asked Mrs. Ross.
"I fear not, mother," replied her elder son, shaking his head soberly.
"Our field-superintendent did say that he would give me the first
opening in the transcontinental line, since my records lead the bunch,
and he even offered to displace one of the boys on that route and put

me in his place, but--"
"But you refused," interrupted Paul, with conclusive pride in his big
brother.
John grinned. "Well, put it that way if you like, Buddy," said he;
"anyhow, as I said before, here I am. Some chap may quit or 'go
West'--you know a round dozen of the poor chaps have been killed in
the last year--and that may let me back in again. But I won't wait for it;
I'll get after some of the commercial flying companies next week and
see if I can't land a berth with them. I simply can't think of working on
the ground. I guess I should have been born a bird, mother, instead of a
human being, I love flying so much."
"I really believe you would be safer if you were a bird, John," asserted
Mrs. Ross, with an uneasy smile. "Birds have no motors to fail them,
no fire to ignite and burn them up, as our present airplanes. How many
of your own unfortunate associates can lay their untimely deaths to
either one of these causes! It was only the last time you were here that
you were telling Paul and me about the terrible fall Howard Smith had
because his motor stopped, and how his machine ignited, and how he
was burned past recognition."
"I know," said the veteran airman; "those things will happen at times,
mother, even with the most careful fellows. The time will come, I think,
and very soon, when stalled motors can be restarted in