CHAPTER XX.THE AEROPLANE RACE.
“Frank, we’re in great luck!”
“I think so myself, Andy,” replied the taller of the cousins, as he coolly bent down to adjust some little thing about the engine of the monoplane.
“Here it’s past noon on the great day! Six thousand good people have gathered on the field here and on the neighboring fences just to see us fly, and there isn’t a mite of wind. I say it’s the greatest luck ever,” and Andy, who was bubbling all over with enthusiasm, turned to look around at the vast throngs.
The two aeroplanes had been taken to the field where the sports of the wonderful Old Home Week at Bloomsbury were being carried out.
All through the morning there had been foot racing, athletic games, and a host of similar amusements that gave the people many thrills and made them glad that they were in the home town at such a time. But the greatest event of the whole week was scheduled for that afternoon at two, when, wind and weather permitting, two home-manufactured aeroplanes, piloted by boys of Bloomsbury, expectedto compete for a silver cup, supposed to have been offered by the committee, but which we happen to know had been purchased by genial old Colonel Josiah Whympers, guardian of our hero, Andy Bird.
The conditions of the race were well understood. They had even been printed, so that no one might rest in ignorance concerning their nature.
Both aeroplanes were to be started at the same time, so there would be no advantage on either side. Then the first to successfully land on the summit of Old Thunder Top mountain and plant an American flag where the foot of man had, up to now, never touched, was to be declared the winner.
There was to be no jockeying or trickery. The committee, again inspired by the colonel, who understood the ways of boys and especially of the Puss Carberry stripe, had made it plain that any attempt to interfere, outside of an accident, would disqualify the guilty party from receiving the fine prize.
Of course, there were few among the vast throng who had ever set eyes on an airship, save as they may have seen either of the contestants flying about Bloomsbury while trying out their machines.
The enthusiasm was intense. Everywherepeople gathered in clusters to compare notes. Of course, there were adherents of both contestants. Sometimes this came through personal feeling, each pilot having his circle of champions among the boys of the town, although four out of five favored Frank, on account of his fine, manly disposition.
Nevertheless, there were many who believed that a biplane could easily outdistance a monoplane in a race, and it was laughable to hear these people, who were in reality so densely ignorant on the subject, standing up staunchly for what they believed to be the better type of air flier.
A rope had been stretched around the space where the two aeroplanes rested and no one was allowed within this enclosure, unless at the wish of the contestants. Chief Waller had all his force on the ground and a number of temporary policemen had been taken on for the week of hilarity, so that the crowds were handled fairly well.
At a quarter to two the people were to be pressed back all along the line, for when the word was given the contesting air craft would require a certain space in which to flash over the field before taking wings and soaring aloft.
No wonder Andy trembled with excitement as he gazed upon the sea of upturned andexpectant faces that centered on the enclosure as the time drew near for the start.
“It’s only wanting ten minutes now, Frank!” he remarked, trying to keep his voice steady.
“Brace up, Andy,” said the other, with a frown. “You mustn’t allow yourself to get in that shape. Remember all you’ve learned and how you managed to keep your head cool yesterday in a trying time. Make up your mind we’re just going to get up on that old mountain before the other fellows have a chance to beat us. There’s Puss, just as excited as you, but he never shows it. Don’t let them see that you are trembling all over. It weakens our chances!”
Somehow it seemed to give Andy’s heart a new impetus to know that he was not the only one who was in a quake.
“All right, Frank, I’ll be in trim once we get a decent start. But I’m in a funk now for fear something will go wrong with the glide-off. If they get a start of us we’re going to be in the soup!” he said, anxiously.
“Oh, rats! Don’t you know they’re just as possible to have trouble in making the start as we are? Just make up your mind both of us are going to get away as neatly as we usuallydo, and that the race is going to be to the swift.”
“But I’ve heard lots of people sing the praises of that Gnome engine they’ve got in the biplane. It does its work with a rush!” observed Andy.
“All right. We simply believe we’ve got a much better one in the new and light little Kinkaid. And we’re just going to prove it!” continued Frank, positively.
“Well, it hasn’t failed us even once so far, for a fact,” admitted Andy; “and I guess I’m a fool for doubting it now. I’m hoping that later on that same motor will be buzzing away down in a country where there won’t be any crowd to watch how we get along. Five minutes now, Frank!”
“Get in your place then and be ready. Seconds may count with us and we don’t ever want to be caught unprepared!” said the pilot of the monoplane, as he cast a last look over everything that would have to do with the success or failure of the flight.
That was always Frank Bird’s slogan—be prepared! He hit the nail on the head when he declared that readiness was almost half the battle. That was what won the war for Germany, when France started operations so suddenly away back in 1870. The army north ofthe Rhine was a vast machine and every single member of it knew just what was expected of him when the time came!
So wise Frank had carefully sized up the present situation. He had mapped out in his mind just what sort of emergencies were liable to occur in a race of this kind, and settled in advance how he could best meet, and grapple with them in case of need.
He knew just how the wind was apt to strike them after they had risen to a certain height, and also what sort of clever maneuvers would best counteract the effect of a head breeze, that must increase as they neared the mountain crest.
On the other hand, Puss Carberry never bothered his head about such trifles. He expected the superior speeding capacity of his big biplane to carry him to victory, regardless of anything his rival might attempt in the way of aerial strategy.
Possibly, ere the competition came to a close, Puss might have learned a lesson he would not be apt to soon forget—that often these same trifles may win or lose a battle, whether on the field of war, or in an aeroplane competition for a prize.
The five minutes was gradually growing less, and of course the excitement increased inconsequence, until it was at fever heat. Heads were craned, and people pushed hither and thither, seeking new points of advantage. For while they readily understood that both airships could be easily watched, once they rose from the ground, everybody wanted to witness with their own eyes the curious and interesting dash along the field that would be a necessary forerunner of the flight.
All sorts of instruments had been fetched along, which might prove useful when the contestants were nearing the summit of Old Thunder Top. Here a lady had a pair of pearl-mounted opera glasses, that perhaps had once been leveled at a Patti, perhaps dating back even to a Jenny Lind. Beside her would be a farmer, who had a telescope of brass, one of the ancient kind used on board ships many decades back, and which was undoubtedly an heirloom in his family.
Then there were numerous up-to-date field and marine glasses; while others depended on their clear eyesight to tell them which aeroplane touched first the up-to-now never explored crown of the grim old mountain, with its range of cliffs rebuffing would-be climbers.
Two minutes more!
A great hush had fallen on the throng. Every eye doubtless was glued on the little enclosure,and the two distinct groups collected about the rival air craft.
The master of ceremonies had assumed charge. He warned both contestants once more to play the game fairly, telling them that the danger was great enough without either taking unnecessary risks in making a foul.
Signals had been arranged whereby the discharge of cannon were to serve as a warning against interference. One shot would direct Frank to steer clear, while a double report meant that the biplane was cutting dangerously across the path of its rival, and must sheer off under penalty of being disqualified.
They knew Puss in Bloomsbury. His reputation as a lover of clean sport was none too good. There were many who anticipated that if he saw that his chances in the race were practically hopeless, Puss Carberry would not hesitate to do some mean trick, and stoutly claim that it was an accident—that his steering apparatus had fouled, causing him to collide with the slighter monoplane.
Of course this was a most foolhardy thing to dream of doing, since a foul in midair might not only send his rivals down to death, but imperil his own life. And yet there were those among his own chums who winked knowingly as they talked over things in low voices,and assured each other that Puss was bound to win, or know the reason why.
Frank had his own private opinion on this subject. He had long made Puss Carberry a study, and believed he had the other pretty well sized up. He was a peculiar combination of a boy, bold at times almost to rashness; and again cautious beyond imagination. And Frank knew that there was constant war within him between the good and the bad, though on nearly all occasions the latter predominated.
He had made up his mind that Puss was too shrewd to risk such a thing as a collision in midair. If he attempted any of his customary dirty work it would come in an altogether different way.
All who were not to have a part in the starting of the aeroplanes had been pressed beyond the ropes. To have no advantage on either side, and make the start exactly fair, a certain number had been limited as assistants.
“Are you ready for the start?”
It was the master of ceremonies who called this out in a loud voice.
“Silence! silence!” went from lip to lip; and several groups of giggling girls felt the rebuke enough to subside.
“Ready!” called out Frank, promptly,while Andy took a big breath, and gripped the upright beside him nervously.
Both of them had their eyes on the course in front. Frank saw that it was practically clear of people, so that the chances of any trouble were reduced to a minimum. He was glad of this, because if the contestants were recalled to try for another start the strain would be almost unbearable.
He heard Puss answer “all ready, Judge,” after a trifling delay, as though he might have thought of some slight change at the very last second.
Then came a brief period of suspense. Perhaps it was only a few seconds, while the starter glanced to right and left to make sure that everything was as it should be, and the track clear. But to poor Andy it seemed as though the delays were interminable, and that an hour must have elapsed.
He was impelled to turn his head, and see what the Judge could be doing; but remembering the positive instructions given by his cousin, he resolutely shut his jaws, and refrained.
Would the signal never come? Those who were to assist in launching the aerial craft had assumed an attitude of expectancy. Their muscles were set, and they stood ready to givethe initial push as the propellers started whirling.
Suddenly the loud voice of the starter rang out, sharp and clear:
“Then go!”