The Bird boys

“What are you frowning so much about, Andy?”

“And look at him shake his head, Frank; just for all the world like he’s gone and lost his best friend!”

“Well, perhaps he has fellows,” laughed Frank Bird, promptly. “At any rate, my poor cousin’s heart is nearly broken into flinders, just because he can’t for the life of him remember what he did with that wonderful little tool he invented.”

“Oh! say, is that what it’s all about?” cried Larry Geohegan; “I guess now, you mean the handy aluminum monkey wrench that always kept its jaws locked after you set ’em? Too bad, Andy. Wish you luck in finding it again.”

“Yes, that’s it, fellows!” exclaimed the sorrowful one, quickly. “Tell me, have either of you set eyes on the little jewel since—well, say last Saturday noon?”

“Huh! just why do you go and pick out that day, of all the blessed week?” demanded “Elephant” Small, a boy who had been given this nickname in derision, since he was anything but ponderous; and who at home chanced to be called Fenimore Cooper.

“I’ll tell you,” replied Andy Bird, promptly; “honestly then, because that’s the last time I can remember handling the same. I was tightening up a nut that had come loose on my bike—perhaps you may have seen me do it.”

“Oh! yes,” remarked Larry, the fourth member of the group, “that was the day we took that long spin on our wheels, and Frank cooked us a bully good camp dinner when we rested on the side of Thunder Top mountain, wasn’t it?”

“Sure it was,” responded Andy. “And just before we got ready to start off again I fastened that bolt. Then it was goodbye to my dandy little wrench, that I always expected to make a bushel of money patenting some fine day.”

“Well, I’ve got an idea, and a bright one too!” observed Elephant, calmly.

“Then it’ll be the first you ever had,” declared Larry, derisively.

“Don’t hold your breath till you forget it, Elephant. Let’s hear the wonderful stunt that’s struck you!” suggested the broken-hearted loser, looking interested.

Elephant never hurried. Perhaps after all it was because of his slowness that his name had been changed so radically.

“Why, you see, it occurred to me that the old bald-headed eagle we watched circling around and around that noon, may have dodged down when nobody was looking, and carried the cute little wrench away in his talons.”

This was not a joke on Elephant’s part. He was never known to show genuine humor himself, although his chums frequently found cause for hilarious laughter in some of the numerous suggestions he put forward. But Elephant himself really believed in them all, marvelous though they may have been.

“Well, now that is a clever idea,” observed Frank, always ready to lead the other on, in order to enjoy a laugh. “I tell you, that old king of the upper air must have heard Andy boasting how he meant to follow in his father’s wake, and be an aeronaut for keeps?”

He winked at the others while speaking; but Elephant of course failed to see anything of this side show.

“That’s the ticket!” cried the originator of the idea vigorously, happy in the belief that for once he must have actually hit upon a bright thought; “the measly old pirate just made up his mind that he’d cripple Andy in the start, and stop all work on your wonderful monoplane. No competition allowed, understand, Andy! So he hooked the wrench; and that ties up the whole business.”

“Oh! shucks! You give me a pain, Elephant,” grunted Larry, pretending to double up as a boy might in the green apple season.

“Huh! it’s easy to pick flaws,” sniffed the other, contemptuously. “But if you don’t like my clever thought, Larry Geohegan, just suppose you give us a better one. Now, none of your hedging, but out with it!”

“That’s as simple as falling off a log,” sneered the bantered boy, as he thrust his thumbs into the upper pockets of his coat, and assumed the air of consequence with which he loved to tantalize Elephant.

“Talk’s cheap; do something, can’t you?” demanded his competitor.

“Listen,” said Larry, impressively. “It seems to me that something happened to Andy on last Saturday, P. M. How about that little episode of the quicksand you got stuck in, old fellow? Didn’t we have to run and get a fence rail to pry you out, wheel and all.”

The two Bird cousins exchanged quick looks.

“Now you’re talking, Larry; because that was just what did happen to me, for a dead certainty!” admitted Andy, readily.

“Looks like Larry had struck a warm trail,” ventured Frank, nodding his head encouragingly.

“Hear further, fellows,” the originator of the newest clue went on saying. “I remember right now that after we pried Andy loose, he had to draw himself up by means of the limb of a tree. Also, that he straddled the same limb, so that his head hung down for a little while.”

“Sure. That was when I was trying to get the rope I had tied to my wheel, over the limb, so you could pull her out of the mire,” admitted Andy.

“All right,” remarked Larry. “That was just the time the wrench must have dropped out of your pocket, and went souse in the mud, to sink to China. Some day you may hear of an enterprising pigtail man over there taking out a patent on a nice little wrench, warranted never to slip while you work.”

“Did you see it drop?” demanded the other.

“Nixey, I did not; still, it stands to reason——” began Larry, obstinately.

“Did you hear it drop?” Andy continued, positively.

“Well, seeing that you were shedding gallons of water about that time, not to mention hunks of mud, it wouldn’t be funny if we failed to hear such a little thing fall into the sucker hole,” grumbled Larry, driven to bay, yet not willing to change his mind.

“All the same then,” declared Andy, “I don’t believe it fell into that muck you call a quicksand. I’ve just gone and misplaced it, that’s all. And some minute, when I get my mind on it, I expect to remember what I did with that little beauty.”

“Meanwhile,” remarked his cousin, with a smile, “we can makeshift to get along at our work with the big monkey wrench. After all, it isn’t the tools that really count, but the ability to do things when you’re left high and dry. Hello! Going to leave us, fellows?” as Elephant and Larry stopped at a cross roads.

“I promised to do a job in our yard today, and it’s going to take me the rest of the time to get through,” announced Larry, with a shrug of his shoulders.

“And me to the woodpile for a little more muscle. So-long, boys; and don’t you believe that old bald-headed thief of the air didn’t understand how you meant to snatch his honors away from him. Look to his nest up on Thunder Top for your monkey wrench, Andy.” And Elephant solemnly shook his head as he walked slowly away.

“What shall we do now, Frank?” asked Andy, when they found themselves alone. “Had we better go and tackle a little more work on our machine, while we wait for that cylinder to arrive?”

“You know we can do mighty little now until we install that. And I’ve somehow got a hunch it’s about due to arrive. So what say we meander down to the station and find out?” suggested the other.

“A bully idea; so come along!” declared Andy, usually only too willing to play second fiddle when in the company of his energetic cousin.

Both were healthy looking boys. Frank’s father was the leading doctor in the town of Bloomsbury, which fronted on Sunrise Lake, a sheet of water some seventeen miles in length, and with innumerable coves along its crooked shores.

Because the boy’s mother had died in his infancy with a suddenly developed lung trouble, the worthy doctor had always been unusually solicitous about Frank; and urged upon him the necessity for securing all the outdoor life he could. Nobody else dreamed that Frank looked delicate; but his father saw suspicious signs in every little “bark” he gave utterance to.

The result was that just now Frank was to be kept out of school for a whole year. His father, being a self-made man, had always believed that an education could be more practically attained from observation and travel than by study of books.

Andy, on the other hand, was an orphan. His father had been quite a well known man of science, and a professor in college. Having a leaning toward aeronautics, he finally took up the fascinating pursuit, after his wife died. A year before the time when we make the acquaintance of the boys, he had vanished utterly from the sight of mortal man, having been carried away in a severe gale while in a balloon, crossing over the line of the partly finished Panama canal.

No word had ever come back, and it was of course fully believed that the daring navigator of the upper currents had perished at sea, or in the wilds of that tropical country to the south.

So Andy found himself left in charge of a jolly old gentleman named Colonel Josiah Whympers, mentioned in the will as his guardian. There was ample money in the estate, and every month Andy received many times more than any lad in all Bloomsbury. But he had no bad habits, and spent his money for good purposes; much of it going toward building a monoplane, which he and Frank expected to utilize in taking little flights around the vicinity.

So far as Andy was concerned, he certainly came by his great love for aviation honestly; since his father had been infatuated with the science of flying.

“Besides,” Andy was accustomed to remarking, when any one challenged his wisdom in choosing such a dangerous calling; “A Bird ought to take to the air just as naturally as a duck does to water. My father had to give in to the call of the upper wild; and I just guess I’ve inherited the longing to soar through the clouds from him.”

Andy was a merry lad, with twinkling blue eyes, and full of the joy of living. His cousin Frank happened to be more serious-minded as a rule; and so they made a most congenial pair of chums, who were yet to have their first quarrel.

Colonel Josiah was supposed to be a rather gruff old party; but that was pretty much a blind; for at heart he was the most amiable gentleman within twenty miles of the home town. Andy could just wind him around his little finger. Having become a cripple some years back, the colonel could no longer roam the world, looking on strange sights, as had been his custom all his life. Consequently, he had to take his enjoyment in reading of the exploits of others, and in encouraging the boys of Bloomsbury to become athletes.

At many a hotly contested baseball game the old traveler could be seen waving his crutch and his cane in the air as he rooted loyally for the home team. And when he learned how Andy aspired to follow in the footsteps of his gifted father, with a sturdy intention to conquer the problems of aviation, instead of throwing obstacles in the way, the old man actually applauded his choice, and offered to assist by any reasonable means in his power.

For more than two months now the Bird boys had been industriously at work upon a model of a monoplane fashioned very much after the style of the Bleriot which they had seen do wonderful stunts on the day they traveled down to the trying-out grounds on Long Island.

A great advance had been made in securing a new Kinkaid engine, said to be three times as light as the best hitherto made. Both boys anticipated great things when they had completed their task. Several times they had undone certain parts of the work, to go about it another way that promised better results. And now they only waited for the cylinder which had been sent for, to get their little machine into practical use.

It was far from being a toy. Both boys had gone deeply into the subject. They talked of little else, read everything that came their way, consulted every authority attainable, experimented, and planned their way carefully.

As yet the wonderful monoplane was something of a mystery. It was housed in a long, low building they were pleased to call a “hangar,” and which was kept scrupulously locked at all times, whether the toilers were within or absent. This odd-looking building was situated in a field back of Colonel Whympers’ house, which also belonged to the crippled traveler. And frequently he would limp out to where he could look toward the shack, to talk to himself, nod his head, and smile, as though he expected great things some day when “his boys” had completed their task.

Walking down through the town on this July day, rather cool for the season, the cousins talked as usual of little else save the chances of their flying machine proving all that they expected of it.

“I’m willing to stake my future reputation on her being a hustler from the word go!” declared Andy, energetically, as they drew near the railroad yards.

“And I’m going to risk my precious life on her ability to stay up, once she gets away from the ground. That’s as much as any fellow could say!” echoed Frank; who knew only too well what faithful labor had been put into every part of the monoplane, built for two.

“Don’t I hope we’ll find our cylinder has come to hand, though?” said Andy, as he began to cast his eyes around, to immediately add excitedly: “Look there, that seems to be about the size of the package we’re expecting. Yes, and here’s the name of the aeroplane dealer we wrote to. It’s a cylinder, as sure as you live. Go and hunt up the clerk, Frank, and settle with him. Meantime I’ll be ripping off this cover, so we can carry home the beauty easier.”

So Frank immediately strode away toward the little freight office, to pay the bill, and settle matters. Andy, left alone, started to make use of his knife in cutting away the burlap that had been sewed around the object with heavy twine.

He was just well into this pleasant task, whistling merrily meanwhile, as was his wont, when he heard a hoarse cry of anger from some point close by.

“Hey! hold on there, you! What in thunder are you tearing open my freight for? I’ve got a good notion to have you arrested as a thief!” cried a voice.

And Andy, looking up in startled surprise, saw two figures bearing down under full sail, in whom he recognized his particular detestation, Percy Carberry, backed up by his shadow and crony, “Sandy” Hollingshead.