The Thunder Bird | Page 8

the various
other duties that would be his portion at the Rolling R.
Johnny pictured himself back at the Rolling R; pictured himself riding
out with the boys at dawn after horses, or sweating in the corrals,
spitting dust and profanity through long, hot hours. There was a lure, of
course; a picturesque, intangible attraction that calls to the wild blood
of youth. But not as calls this other life which he had tasted. There was
no gainsaying the fact--ranch life had grown too tame, too stale for
Johnny Jewel. And there was no gainsaying that other fact--that Mary
V would have to reconcile herself to being an aviator's wife, if she
would mate with Johnny.
He went to sleep thinking bitterly that neither he nor Mary V need
concern themselves at present over that point. It would be some time
before the issue need be faced, judging from Johnny's present
prospects.
CHAPTER THREE
JOHNNY WOULD DO STUNTS
Bland woke him, just as day was coming. A new Bland, fresh
shaven,--with Johnny's razor,--and with a certain languid animation in
his manner that was in sharp contrast to his extreme dejection of the
night before.
"Thought I'd come out and see if you was going to make a flight this
morning," he said. "It's a good morning for it, bo. How's she working,
these days? Old man at the ranch wouldn't let me try her out after I'd
fixed her up; said you was too sick to have the motor going. So I
couldn't be sure I'd made a good job of it. Give you any trouble?"

Johnny sat up and knuckled his eyes, his mouth wide open in a capital
O. It seemed to him that Bland had his nerve, and he guessed shrewdly
that the aviator was simply making sure of his breakfast. When cats
come back they have a fashion of hanging around the kitchen, he
remembered. Oh, well, there was nothing to be gained by being nasty
and even Bland's company was better than none.
"Hey, ain't yuh awake yet? I asked yuh how the motor's acting."
"O--o--h, aw-righ!" yawned Johnny, blinking around for his boots. "I
ain't been flying much. Just flew over here from the ranch, and a little
circle now and then when something come along that looked like
money. I wanted to keep her in good shape in case the gover'ment--"
"Trying to sell it back to the gover'ment, huh? I coulda told yuh, bo,
they wouldn't take it as a gift. She's a back number now--a has-been,
from the gover'ment viewpoint. Why don't you keep it? What yuh want
to sell it for, f'r cat's sake? She's a gold mine if you know how to work
it, bo--take it from me."
"Well, I wish to thunder you'd show me the gold, then," Johnny retorted
crossly, pulling on his boots.
"Lend us a smoke, will yuh, old top? The money's here, all right, if yuh
just know how to get it out. And flying for the gover'ment ain't the way.
I'll say a man's got to be his own boss if he wants to pull down real
money. Long as you're workin' for somebody else, he's getting the
velvet. You ain't, believe me. And the gover'ment as a boss--"
"Well, good golly, come to the point!" snapped Johnny. "How can I
make money with this plane?" He gave it a disgruntled look, and turned
to Bland. "She's a bird of a millionaire's toy, if you ask me," he said.
"She's a fiend for gas and oil, and every time you turn 'er around there's
some darned thing to be fixed or replaced. I'm about broke, trying to
keep her up till I can sell out. It's coffee and sinkers for you, old timer,
if you're going to eat on me. Another meal like you had last night, and
we'll both have to skip a few in order to buy gas to joy-ride some cheap
sport that lets on he's thinking of buying. I suppose your idea is--"

"F'r cat's sake give me a chance to tell yuh! Course you'll go broke
trying to support the plane. You're goin' at it backwards. Make the
plane support you. That's my idea. And you do it by exhibition flying
for money--not sailin' around giving the whole damn country a free
treat.
"I know--you think I'm a bum and all that; maybe you think I'm a crook,
fer all I know. And you turn up your nose at anything I say. But lemme
tell yuh, old top, I ain't a D. and O. because I never made any money
flyin'. It's because I blowed what I made. And it's because I made so
damn' much it went to my head and made a fool outa me. Listen here,
bo: