The Girl Aviators Sky Cruise | Page 3

a word to the chauffeur over
his shoulder, was a person we have met before--Mr. Harding, the
banker and local magnate of Sandy Beach, whose money it was that
had financed the new aeroplane concern.
CHAPTER II.
MR. HARDING DECLARES HIMSELF.
Readers of the first volume of this series, "The Girl Aviators and The
Phantom Airship," will recall Mr. Harding. They will also be likely to
recollect his son, Fanning, who made so much trouble for Peggy
Prescott and her brother, culminating in a daring attempt to "bluff"
them out of entering a competition for a big aerial prize by constructing
a phantom aeroplane. Fanning's part in the mystery of the stolen jewels
of Mrs. Bancroft, the mother of Jess and Jimsy, will likewise be
probably held in memory by those who perused that volume. The elder
Harding's part in the attempt to coerce the young Prescotts into parting
with their aerial secrets, consisted in trying to foreclose a mortgage he
held on the Prescott home, with the alternative of Roy turning over to
him the blue prints and descriptions of his devices left the lad by his
dead father. How the elder Harding was routed and how the Girl
Aviator, Peggy Prescott, came into her own, was all told in this volume.
Since that time Mr. Harding's revengeful nature had brooded over what
he chose to fancy were his wrongs. What the fruit of his moody and
mean meditations was to be, the Mortlake plant, which he had financed,
was, in part, the answer.
In the volume referred to, it was also related how Peter Bell, an old
hermit, had been discovered by means of the Prescott aeroplane, and
restored to his brother, a wealthy mining magnate.

In the second volume of the Girl Aviators, we saw what came of the
meeting between James Bell, the westerner, and the young flying folk.
By the agency of the aeroplane, a mine--otherwise inaccessible--had
been opened up by Mr. Bell in a remote part of the desert hills of
Nevada. The aeroplane and Peggy Prescott played an important part in
their adventures and perils. Notably so, when in a neck-to-neck dash
with an express train, the aeroplane won out in a race to file the
location papers of the mine at Monument Rocks. The rescue of a desert
wanderer from a terrible death on the alkali, and the routing of a gang
of rascally outlaws were also set forth in full in that book, which was
called "The Girl Aviators on Golden Wings."
The present story commences soon after the return of the party from the
Far West, when they were much surprised--as has been said--to observe
the mushroom-like rise of the Mortlake factory. But of what the new
plant was to mean to them, and how intimately they were to be brought
in contact with it, none of them guessed.
"Well, Mortlake," observed Mr. Harding, in his harsh, squeaky
voice--not unlike the complaint of a long unused door, "well, Mortlake,
we are getting ahead, I see."
The two men had, by this time, passed within the big sliding doors of
the freshly-painted shed, and now stood in a maze of machinery and
strange looking bits of apparatus. From skylights in the roof--there
were no side windows to gratify the inquisitive--the sunlight streamed
down on three or four partially completed aircraft. With their yellow
wings of vulcanized cloth, and their slender bodies, like long tails, they
resembled so many dragon-flies, or "devil's darning needles,"
assembled in conclave upon the level floor. At the farther end of the
shed was a small blast furnace, shooting upward a livid, blue spout of
flame, which roared savagely. Actively engaged at their various tasks at
lathes and work-benches, were a dozen or more overalled mechanics,
the most skillful in their line that could be gathered. Here and there
were the motors, the driving power of the "dragon flies." The engines
glistened with new paint and bright brass and copper parts. Behind
them were ranged big propellers of laminated, or joined wood, in

stripes of brown and yellow timber. Altogether, the Mortlake plant was
as complete a one for the manufacture of aerial machines as could have
been found in the country.
"Yes, we are getting along, Mr. Harding," returned Mortlake, "and it's
time, too. By the way, Lieut. Bradbury is due here at noon. I want to
have everything as far advanced as possible in time for his visit. You
won't mind accompanying me then, while I oversee the workmen?"
Followed by Mr. Harding, he made an active, nervous tour of the
work-benches, dropping a reproof here and a nod of commendation or
advice there.
When he saw a chance, Mr. Harding spoke.
"So the government really means to give us an opportunity to show the
worth of