by Frank Cobb
CHAPTER X
The first week of school, full of adjustments and experiments, passedwith the greatest swiftness. The boys were soon accustomed to theirsurroundings and threw themselves with enthusiasm into their studies anddrill. Every possible moment was spent on the aviation field. Bill waslearning every quirk and crank of such work as he could do in Ernest'splane without leaving the ground.
The mechanicians still worked on Horace Jardin's plane, but seemed tomake no headway. Horace threatened one thing and then another, ready totake the advice of whoever stood nearest. Frank made it a point to bethat person as often as possible. He fretted no longer about money, afact that pleased Bill.
Then Saturday came, and things commenced to happen.
First was the usual rush for the morning mail at eight o'clock. Therewas a letter from Mrs. Sherman, which Bill carried into the desertedlibrary to read. He always wanted to be alone when he read his mother'sletters. They were so dear and so precious, and seemed so nearly asthough she herself was speaking to him, that he hated to be in a crowdof careless, chaffing boys.
When he had read half the long, closely written pages, however, he gavea shout and hustling down the corridor to the chemistry room, burst inupon Ernest who was doing some extra work there.
"Hey, Ern!" cried Bill, waving the letter. "Hear this! My mother is apeach if there ever _was_ one!"
The elder boy laughed. "I bet she says you can fly," he guessed.
"Just that. Listen!"
Bill hastily hunted for the right place.
"'You know, darling' ... no, that's not it," he hastily correctedhimself. "Here it is. 'Perhaps I have been selfish in asking you not totry your wings until you are older. Your dad assures me that you are anexpert with your automobile and says that there are no age limit flyers.You see, the trouble is, sonny, that it is hard for your mother torealize that you are going to grow up soon. You notice that I say youare _going_ to, not you _are_ growing up. This is a gentle way ofleading up to what I want to say about flying.
"'Dear boy of mine, please, _please_ let your promise stand, with thismuch of a release. If ever, _ever_ there comes an occasion of the_greatest importance_, an occasion where you know I would approve--andyou always do know when I approve--then you may fly. I hope and praythat it will not come, but if it does, you will know how to act. Andwhatever you do you will know that your mother stands back of youbecause she trusts in your judgment.
"'I sound like a _nobul parent_, don't I, Bill dear? Well, I _do_ feelthat I am on the safe side, because I cannot foresee any possibleoccasion for you to go flying off from school. However, if ever you feelthat you _must_, why, you _may_!
"'Get that nice boy Ernest to teach you everything he can, and if youhave to fly, ask him to fly with you.'
"That's all she says about _that_," said Bill with a happy grin, "butnow I feel safe. I don't know why, but I had a sort of hunch that Iought to ask her to let me fly if I had to."
"It is certainly nice of your mother," remarked Ernest, "but I agreewith her that there will be very little chance of your finding itabsolutely necessary to go aloft in the near future. Of course if yougo, I will go along."
"I have not read the rest of the letter," said Bill, "but I had to showyou this. I will read the rest now."
He hurried back to the library and resumed his reading. And the verynext sentence made him sit up straight, a dark scowl on his face.
"And now I must tell you something so dreadful and so sad that I canscarcely write it," said the letter. "You will remember the money thatwas stolen from a certain officer next door to us here? It happened justbefore you left for school. Oh, Bill, you will find it almostimpossible to believe it when I tell you that our Lee, Lee whom we havealways found so honest and so faithful, is _under arrest_ for taking it.
"It seems that two ladies were sewing or visiting on the porch acrossfrom our quarters, and a colonel was reading at the end of our ownporch. Lee came out and went to the telephone and kept saying hello somany times that they all noticed him. The telephone is right beside thewindow, and inside, on a desk, the money was lying in an open envelopeunder a paperweight. The weight was so heavy the money could _not_ blowaway. Lee was the only one out there while the owner of the desk wasaway from it. He was only gone for a moment, while he spoke to anorderly at the back door.
"You know Lee always has lots of money of his own, but now they don'tbelieve that his grandfather sends him the money at all. He is up fortrial and if he is convicted, (and the circumstantial evidence is verystrong) he will be sent to Leavenworth for years and years. It is a_dreadful_ offence.
"The money was in an official envelope, and if _that_ could only befound Lee would be cleared, unless it was found in his possession. Theyeven ripped up his uniforms to see if it was hidden there, but now theythink he has burned it. Of course I believe in Lee. It is all a horriblemistake, and some day perhaps it will be cleared up, but not soonenough to save Lee because if he even gets inside Leavenworth he willfeel disgraced for life and I don't know _what_ will become of him.
"Oh, Bill, it is simply _too awful_! Of course they found three or fourhundred dollars on him, but he always has a great deal too much moneyfor an enlisted man to be traveling around with. Dad is simply sick overit. Our Lee! We don't know _what to do_. Who could have taken thatmoney? And where is the envelope? If we could only find that! They say acriminal always leaves some clue behind him, but the person who stolethat money must be a clever thief. There is nothing, absolutely_nothing_ to guide us.
"Isn't it too awful? I wish you would write to Lee. He is in the guardhouse, but I could get a letter in to him without any trouble. Make himunderstand, Bill, that you believe in him and are his friend. He isdown-hearted."
There was but little more in the letter. Bill's mother had felt too sadto fill the pages with all the little details of the Post. And Bill,after he had read about Lee, felt as though he could never smile again.He felt helpless and lonesome and very far away. He wished heartily thathe was back on the Post. It _did_ seem as though he could help if heonly knew what to do.
Advice: that was what he wanted. But who was there to advise him? Theprincipal of the school was absolutely out of the question. He thoughtof the instructors one by one. No good on such a count.
Troubled beyond words, he made his way slowly to his room. Frank was notthere, and Bill sat down and wrote a letter to his mother, which helater sent special delivery. It was rather a rambling and purposelessaffair, but the best he could do under the circumstances. The note whichhe enclosed for Lee was quite different in tone, and was intended tomake the prisoner believe that it was only a question of a few daysbefore the real culprit would be led to justice.
The trouble with Bill was that he could remember nothing at all of theevents of the fateful morning of the robbery except that he was busypacking and yelling good-byes to everyone who passed the back door ofthe quarters, Bill's locker being on the back porch, past which longlines of student officers on their way out to make road maps continuallymarched two by two, followed by the usual company of little and bigmongrel dogs that are always found on army Posts. Bill could see the menand the dogs and he remembered the greetings, but who passed by or whatoccurred on the front porch he did not know. His mind remained a blank.
Frank came in whistling. He grinned in an unfriendly fashion when he sawhis roommate slumped in the camp chair by the window.
"Heard the news?" he demanded.
"No; what's up?" asked Bill without interest.
"Well, the school was just put under strict quarantine," said Frank."The town and all the country is so full of that new disease,what-you-call-it, that we are going to be shut up here for goodnessknows how long. And they say there are seven fellows down with it in thehospital now. What do you suppose they will do if it gets to be anepidemic in the school? I saw old Nealum just now, and he was mum as anoyster: looked bad, because he always loves to give out information, youknow. We are to go to chapel in half an hour for inst
ructions and newrules. Wish they would send us home! I don't like school."
"I would like to go home too," said Bill.
"Why, I thought _you_ were dippy over your 'dear school' and your 'sweetteachers,'" sneered Frank.
"It's all right," said Bill, "but I got a letter from home just now. Leeis under arrest for stealing that money."
Bill was looking out of the window. He did not see the look of triumphthat swept over Frank's face.
"Good work!" said Frank. "I knew he was a crook, and I knew that sooneror later they would grab him. Did they find the money?"
"They didn't find the money, and Lee is as straight as I am!" declaredBill. "And if you say anything different I will lick you out of yourskin! I have a mind to do it anyhow!"
Frank glanced at the door. "You make me tired!" he said. "You won't letanybody have an opinion without jumping them for it. Wait and see whatcomes of this before you get so brash! I am going out to the field. Ernis waiting for you there, or perhaps he will meet you in chapel. Nealumtold me there was going to be a halt on most of the indoor classes. Theywant to keep us out in the air. That will give us a lot more time withthe planes. Too bad your mother won't let you fly. You could fly home. Iwould do it if _I_ owned a plane. Jardin is sick of his."
He went off whistling, and Bill walked wearily to the chapel.
Days went by. The country trembled for the children and young men andwomen who were being stricken, the teachers redoubled their efforts tokeep the boys well and happy, and the boys themselves regarded theaffair as a happy interlude in the year's grind.
Our four boys spent all their leisure time on the aviation field. TheJardin plane seemed possessed. Every night, after the mechanicians hadspent the day working over it, the machine would go sailing off thefield, purring and humming and flying smoothly and evenly. And as surelyas morning came something was wrong! Jardin was frantic. Frank, alwaysat his elbow, irritated him into admissions and statements that hescarcely recognized as his own when he afterwards thought about them.He was not wise enough to put two and two together.
Another letter came from Mrs. Sherman, and on the same mail one fromMajor Sherman written, not from his cozy desk in quarters, but over athis office.
Bill looked very grave after he read it. Strangely enough, he had lefthis mother's letter for the last. Major Sherman wrote to know what watchBill had pawned. A pawnbroker in Lawton had written him to say that hewould be glad to sell the watch left with him as he had a good customerfor it. Major Sherman wanted an explanation from Bill. He had simplywritten the man to hold the watch until he had heard from his son.
Bill was stunned. What it all meant he could not guess. Somethingstrange was in the air. He felt the influence of evil but could notplace it. Taking his mother's letter, still unopened, he walked slowlyto the library. It was full of boys, all laughing and talking. It hadbecome a lounging room during the quarantine. Bill could not read there.Slamming on his cap, he wandered over to the hangar. Climbing intoErnest's plane, he huddled down where he was effectually hidden. He knewthat Ernest would not be out of the chemistry laboratory for hours, andhe tore open his mother's letter and read it rapidly.
Lee had been convicted! Bill groaned in anguish as he read the words.He was to be taken to Leavenworth as soon as a couple more trials wereheld so that all the prisoners could go under the care of one officerand a squad. _Lee going to prison!_ Bill could not believe it. And Leehad told Mrs. Sherman that he would never be taken to Leavenworth alive.Bill shuddered.
Stunned by his emotions, Bill lay motionless in the cramped quarters hehad chosen. Presently he heard a light footstep. It stopped close besidehim and Bill, raising himself on his arm, peered over the edge of hissmall quarters at the back of Frank Anderson, who was bending over theengine of Horace Jardin's plane. No one else was in the hangar. Billheard the scrape of steel on steel and saw Frank slip a smallscrewdriver into his pocket. Then Bill dropped out of sight, and soon heheard Frank retreating to the small door of the hangar where he stoodfor a moment looking out before he went out.
Five minutes later he returned with Horace Jardin.
Horace as usual was sputtering.
"I tell you, Andy," he said with his usual bluster, "this is the _last_day I will fool with that plane. Absolutely the last! If she doesn't gobefore night, she needn't go at all. I will get rid of her. Dad wrote methis morning that he had had a letter from the chief mechanician here,and what the fellow says about the plane looks as though the companyhad put one over on us. Dad won't stand for that. He is going to makethem replace the car. But they can't have this one back. I will sell itsure as shooting! I need money."
"What's your price?" asked Frank.
Jardin registered deep thought. "I need five hundred," he said.
"I will buy it," replied Frank. "I can make a little on it if I sell itfor junk, and you can't afford to dicker around like that. It would beout of place for a Jardin to be dealing in second-hand stuff. Everyoneknows I have nothing."
"How do you come to have the five hundred then?" asked Horacesuspiciously.
Frank flushed but did not hesitate.
"A present from my grandmother," he said, trusting to luck that Jardinwould not know that the lady had been dead for many years.
"Well, if she doesn't go by to-night, she is yours for the fivehundred," promised Jardin. "I wonder where those mechanicians are. Let'sgo look them up."
Together the boys went out, and Bill, feeling it was high time toescape, leaped out of the plane and dodged out the door.
Across the field, Ernest, the two mechanicians, Frank and Horace weretalking excitedly.
Bill joined the group.