Lost In The Air | Page 3

the woods Timmie is, an' if he's dead his shack'll be there an' the money,
fer he never coom out o' th' woods again, thet shamed he was."
The boys promised to keep an eye out for Timmie, if ever they went
into the unknown wilderness, and left the old man with a new hope
shining in his eyes.
For a long time after reaching the office the boys worked in silence. At
last Barney straightened his tired shoulders and glanced at Bruce. He
was in a brown study.
"What's on your mind, Bruce?" he asked. "That money?"
"Thinking what it would do for La Vaune; five thousand seven hundred
and twenty-four dollars." Bruce rolled the words out slowly. Though
they said no more about it, the old man's story was the inspiration of
many a wild plan. The truth is, it was destined to play an important part
in shaping their future.
* * * * *
"He's here! She's--it's here!"
Bruce burst into the office all excitement and half out of breath.
"Who's he, she, it?" grinned Barney, slipping his pen behind his ear.
"The Major and the airplane! And the plane's a hummer!"

It was Barney's turn to get excited now. He jumped from his stool so
suddenly that his pen went clattering.
"Let's have a look at her." He grabbed his cap and dashed out, Bruce at
his heels.
Some Greek freight handlers were unloading the car when they reached
the track. The work was being done under the direction of a rather tall
man, erect and dignified. He, the boys felt sure, was the Major. His face
bore some peculiar scars, not deep but wide, and as he walked he
limped slightly.
"Might be he's lost some toes," muttered Barney. "Had a cousin who
limped that way."
"The machine's a Handley-Page bombing plane, made over for some
purpose or other," said Bruce, with a keen eye for every detail. "That's
the plane that would have bombed Berlin if the war had lasted long
enough. They're carrying mail from Paris to Rome in 'em now. Those
machines carried four engines and developed a thousand horse-power.
This one is a lighter model and carries two engines. One's a
Rolls-Royce and one a Liberty motor. The fellow that planned the
Major's trip for him has selected his equipment well. They don't make
them any better."
"Just look at the sweep of the planes," exclaimed Barney. "They were
made for high altitude work--up where the air's thin. No one would be
coming up here for a high altitude test, would he?"
"Surely not; there's no particular advantage at this point for that."
The boys watched the unloading with eager and experienced eyes. As
Barney put it, "Makes me feel like some shipwrecked gob on a desert
island when he sees a launch coming ashore."
"Yes," grinned Bruce, "and soon you'll be feeling like your gob would
when the launch came about and put out to sea again. No chance for
you on that boat, Barney."

"Guess you're right," groaned Barney. "Little enough we'll have to do
with that bird."
As he spoke several of the men recklessly jerked a plane to free it from
its wrappings. The Major, his back to them, was superintending the
unloading of the Liberty motor.
"Hey, you! Go easy there!" Barney sprang forward impulsively and
showed the workmen how to handle the plane. When the job was done
he stepped back with an apologetic air. The Major had turned and was
watching him.
"You seem to understand such matters," he smiled.
"I've worked with them a bit," said Barney.
"Would you mind letting me know where you are located?" asked the
Major. "My aviator and mechanic have disappointed me so far. You
might be of some assistance to me."
"We're over at the bookkeeping shack--the office of the construction
company," said Barney, red with embarrassment. "He--that is, my
bunkie here, knows more about those boats than I do. Say, if we can be
any help to you, we'll jump at the chance. Won't we, Bruce?"
"Surest thing," grinned Bruce, as they turned regretfully toward the dull
office and duller work.
"Say, you don't suppose," exclaimed Barney that night at supper--"you
remember those awful wide planes of the Major's? You don't suppose
he's starting for--" Barney hesitated.
"You don't mean?--" Bruce hesitated in turn.
"Sure! The Pole; you don't suppose he'd try it?"
"Of course not," exclaimed Bruce, the conservative. "Who ever thought
of going to the Pole in a plane through Canada?"

"Bartlett's got a plan of going to the Pole in a plane."
"But he's going from Greenland," said Bruce. "That's different."
"Why"
"Steamboat. Farthest point of land north and everything."
"That's just it," exclaimed Barney disgustedly. "Steamboat and
everything. You're not a real explorer unless