Lost In The Air | Page 5

as I am. If I go, he goes. What there is in it in pay or peril we will share equally."
Barney stepped forward to protest, but Bruce held him back and continued: "Your machine is equipped for two men besides yourself. Will you take us both?"
"Most certainly," said the Major heartily. "In case you decide to accompany me, I shall wire the mechanic not to come and you two may divide the work between you as you may see fit.
"I might say," he added, "that the pay will be double that which you are now receiving, and the journey will consume the remainder of the season. Should we decide on something more hazardous, the pay will be in proportion, and there is, besides, a substantial, I might even say a rich reward offered, for the successful completion of this latter task. However, enough of that for the present. You can give me your decision in the morning, and I hope you accept." He bowed and strode away.
"Now, why didn't you say 'Yes' on the spot?" demanded Barney, impatiently. "We are required to give only a week's notice to the company and the nights and mornings of that week we can use getting the machine together and taking a trial flight."
"I always sleep over a thing," answered Bruce. "It's a habit I inherited from my father." Long after, in quite different circumstances, Barney was to remember this remark, and bless Bruce's inheritance.
Mail had been delivered during their absence. Barney found a letter on his desk. He puzzled over the postmark, which was from some Pacific port. He tore the envelope open, glanced at the letter, then read it with sudden eagerness.
"Bruce," he exclaimed, "listen to this. It's from an old pal of mine, David Tower; entered the navy same time I did the army." And he read aloud:
"Dear Barney:
"I'm off for somewhere far North; guess not the Pole, but pretty well up that way. Second officer on a U. S. Sub. She's loaned to a queer old chap they call Doctor. No particulars yet. Hope this finds you 'up in the air,' as per usual.
"DAVE." "That is a coincidence," said Bruce. "Perhaps we'll meet him up there somewhere among the icebergs."
"I'll suggest it!" exclaimed Barney, reaching for his pen.
"Dear Dave," he wrote. "Am thinking of a little trip North myself. Our ship's a 500 HP Handley-Page. Bring your guitar and oboe along. My partner and I are bringing saxophone and mandolin. We'll have a little jazz. Till we meet, as ever,
"BARNEY."
If the boy had known under what strange conditions this particular jazz performance would be given, he might have felt queer sensations creeping up his spinal column.
"I say!" exclaimed Bruce suddenly, "who's this Major chap, anyway? I've a notion he's something rather big, maybe the biggest--"
"You don't mean?--"
"I'm not saying anything," protested Bruce, "but this other man I'm thinking of left a toe or two in the Arctic, and his face has freeze scars on it. His name's--well, you know it as well as I do."
"Shucks! It couldn't be," exclaimed Barney. "He wouldn't be up here alone this way."
"No, I guess not," sighed Bruce. "But it would be great sport if it were he, after all."
Ten days later, a girl in her late teens stood shading her eyes watching a tiny object against the sky. It might have been a hawk, but it was not; it was an airplane--the Handley-Page, with the two young pilots and the Major on board. The girl was La Vaune. She stood there watching till the plane had dwindled to a dot, and the dot had disappeared. Holding her apron to her eyes to hide her tears, she walked blindly into the house.
The adventurers were well on their way.
CHAPTER II
THE STRANGE LANDING
"I don't like the way the Rolls-Royce is acting," Bruce grumbled through his telephone to Barney, for, though they were not four feet apart, not a word could they hear, so great was the din of their two powerful engines.
"Same here," answered Barney. "Old Major ought to have given us more time to try 'em out. Brand new."
"Barren Lands far away. Forced to land in tree-tops. Good-night!"
After that there came only the monotonous roar of the engines. The Major's orders had been "Due north by west," and now, though they had put fully two hundred miles between themselves and the last sign of civilization, they were still holding to their course. They also had been directed to fly as low as was safe. Three times the Major had barked an order into the receiver; always to circle some spot, while he swept the earth with a binocular as powerful as could be used in an airplane. Three times he had given a second order to resume their course.
"He seems to be looking for something," Barney