Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  “Good riddance!” cried Orissa. “I don’t think he’ll ever bother us again.”

  Steve was examining the wreck. He tested the motors and found that neither the fall nor the bull had damaged them in the least. But there was breakage enough, aside from this, to make him groan disconsolately.

  “The flight was wonderful,” commented his sister, watching his face anxiously. “Nothing could work more perfectly than the Kane Aircraft did until — until — the final descent. What caused the rocking, Steve?”

  “A fault of the lateral balance. My automatic device refused to work, and before I knew it I had lost control.”

  She stood gazing thoughtfully down at the wreck. Her brother had really invented a flying machine, of that there was no doubt. She had seen it fly — seen it soar miles through the air — and knew that a certain degree of success had been obtained. There was something wrong, to be sure; there usually is with new inventions; but wrongs can be righted.

  “I’ve succeeded in a lot of things,” her brother was saying, reflectively. “The engines, the propeller and elevator are all good, and decided improvements on the old kinds. The starting device works beautifully and will soon be applied to every airship made. Only the automatic balance failed me, and I believe I know how to remedy that fault.”

  “Do you suppose the machine can be rebuilt?” she asked.

  “Assuredly. And the automatic balance perfected. The trouble is, Orissa, it will take a lot more money to do it, and we’ve already spent the last cent we could raise. It’s hard luck. Here is a certain fortune within our grasp, if we could perfect the thing, and our only stumbling block is the lack of a few dollars.”

  Having reviewed in her mind all the circumstances of Steve’s successful flight the girl knew that he spoke truly. Comparing the aircraft with other machines she had seen and studied at the aviation meet she believed her brother’s invention was many strides in advance of them all.

  “The question of securing the money is something we must seriously consider,” she said. “In some way it will be raised, of course. But just now our chief problem is how to get this ruin back to the hangar.”

  “That will be my job,” declared Steve, his courage returning. “There are few very big pieces left to remove, and by taking things apart I shall be able to get it all into the shed. The day’s doings are over, Ris. Get breakfast and then go to your work. After I’ve stored this rubbish I’ll take a run into town myself, and look for a job. The aviation jig is up — for the present, at least.”

  “Don’t do anything hurriedly, Steve,” protested the girl. “Work on the aircraft for a day or two, just as if we had money to go ahead with. That will give me time to think. To-night, when I come home, we will talk of this again.”

  CHAPTER VIII

  MR. BURTHON’S PROPOSITION

  Saturday was a busy day at the office. They did not close early, but rather later than on other days, and Orissa found plenty of work to occupy her. But always there remained in her thoughts the problem of how to obtain money for Steve, and she racked her brain to find some practical solution.

  Mr. Burthon was in a mellow mood to-day. Since the sale of his mining stock he had been less abstracted and moody than before, and during the afternoon, having just handed Orissa several deeds of land to copy, he noticed her pale, drawn face and said:

  “You look tired, Miss Kane.”

  She gave him one of her sweet, bright smiles in payment for the kindly tone.

  “I am tired,” she returned. “For two mornings I have been up at four o’clock.”

  “Anyone ill at home?” he asked quickly.

  “No, sir.”

  Suddenly it occurred to her that he might assist in unraveling the problem. She turned to him and said:

  “Can you spare me a few minutes, Mr. Burthon? I — I want to ask your advice.”

  He glanced at her curiously and sat down in a chair facing her.

  “Tell me all about it,” he said encouragingly. “Not long ago it was I asking for advice, and you were good enough to favor me. Now it is logically your turn.”

  “My brother,” said she, “has invented an airship.”

  He gave a little start of surprise and an eager look spread over his face. Then he smiled at her tolerantly.

  “All the world has gone crazy over aviation,” he remarked. “I, myself, witnessed the flights at Dominguez Field and became strongly impressed with the desire to fly. I suppose your brother contracted the fever, too, and has made a model he thinks will float in the air.”

  “Oh, it is not a model,” she gravely replied. “Stephen is an expert mechanic and has worked on many of the most famous aeroplanes in the country. He has recently built a complete airship of his own, and this morning I watched him make a very successful flight in it.”

  “Indeed?” he exclaimed, the eager look returning. “There is money in a good airship, Miss Kane. This is the psychological moment to forge ahead in aviation, which will soon become the world’s popular mode of transit. It is easy to build an airship; yes. Perhaps I could build one myself. But where many will try, many will fail.”

  “And some will succeed,” she added, smiling.

  He examined her expressive face with interest. “Please tell me all about it,” said he.

  So Orissa gave him the history of the aircraft, from its conception to the final triumph and wreckage and its conquest by the bull. Incidentally she told how they had mortgaged their home and the orange crop to get the needed money, and finally explained the condition they were now in — success within their grasp, but no means of taking advantage of it.

  Mr. Burthon was very attentive throughout, his eyes fixed upon Orissa’s lovely face and watching its shades of anxiety and exaltation as the story progressed. While she enthusiastically described Steve’s aircraft, her eyes sparkling and a soft flush mantling her cheeks, the man scarcely heard what she said, so intent was he in admiring her. He did not permit his fair secretary to notice his mood, however, and the girl was too earnestly engaged to heed her employer’s intent gaze. At the conclusion of her story she asked:

  “Tell me, sir, is there any way in which we can raise the money required?”

  Mr. Burthon roused himself and the hard business expression settled upon his features again.

  “I think so,” he returned, slowly. “What your brother needs is a backer — what is called an ‘angel,’ you know — who will furnish the necessary funds for the perfection of the invention and to place it upon the market and properly exhibit it.”

  “Would anyone do that?” she inquired.

  “For a consideration, yes. Such a party would demand an interest in the invention, and a share of the profits.”

  “How much, sir?”

  “Perhaps a half interest.”

  She considered this statement.

  “That is too much to give away, Mr. Burthon. The aircraft is already built and tested. It is a proved success, and the best aeroplane in all the world. Why should we give a half interest in return for a little money?”

  He hesitated; then replied coldly:

  “Because the invention is useless without the means to publicly demonstrate it, and establish it on a paying basis. At present your airship is without the slightest commercial value. Once exploited, the half interest you retain would make your fortune.”

  Her brow wrinkled with a puzzled look.

  “I’ll talk to Steve about it,” she said. “But, if he consents, where could I find such an — an ‘angel’?”

  “In me,” he answered coolly. “If, on investigation, I find your brother’s airship to be one half as practical as you represent it, and doubtless believe it to be, I will deposit ten thousand dollars in the bank to exploit it — in return for a half interest — and agree to furnish more money whenever it is required.”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Orissa, doubtfully. “I — I’ll talk with my brother.”

  “Very well,” he replied. “But beware of co
nfiding in strangers. I am your friend, and will guard your interests faithfully. Talk with your brother, but with no one else.”

  Orissa did talk with Steve, that very evening, and the boy frowned at the suggestion just as his sister had done.

  “I know that is the way business men do things,” he said, “and it’s a good deal like robbery. Burthon sees that we must have money, and he’s driving a shrewd bargain. Besides that, I’m not sure he’s honest.”

  “I don’t see how he could defraud us, though,” mused Orissa. “There are two things for us to consider. One is, whether we can raise the money in any other way; and then, whether a half interest in a business with plenty of money behind it would not pay better than the whole thing, with a constant struggle to make both ends meet.”

  “Perhaps it might,” he replied, hesitatingly. “But I’ve done all this alone, so far, and I hate to let anyone else reap the benefit of my ideas. I suppose if I had not proved the thing, but merely begun work on it, Burthon wouldn’t have invested a dollar in it.”

  “I suppose not,” she agreed. “But think it over, dear. We have all day to-morrow to talk of it and consider what is best to be done. Then, when I go to the office Monday morning, I can tell Mr. Burthon our decision.”

  They talked considerably more on this subject after dinner, and worried over it during a sleepless night. After breakfast on Sunday morning they went quietly to church, Mrs. Kane accompanying them, as was her custom. But Orissa had hard work to keep her mind on the service and Steve found the attempt impossible. The return home, including a long car ride, was passed in silence, and then Orissa had to busy herself over the dinner.

  It was the middle of the afternoon before brother and sister found time to meet in the hangar, which was now strewn with parts of the aircraft. Steve looked around him gloomily and then seated himself beside Orissa upon a bench.

  “I suppose we must settle this thing,” he said; “and there’s no doubt we must have money, or we shall face ruin. The thing has cost too much for us to withdraw from it without a heavy loss that would mean privation and suffering for you and mother. If we go to anyone but Burthon we may not get as good an offer as he makes, for men with money are eager to take advantage of a poor fellow in need. I can’t blame Burthon much. I don’t suppose there’s a rich man living who wouldn’t hold us up in the same selfish way. And so — ”

  He paused, shrugging his shoulders.

  “So you think we’d better accept Mr. Burthon’s proposition and give him a half interest?” she asked.

  “Beg pardon,” said a cold voice; “am I intruding?”

  CHAPTER IX

  THE OTHER FELLOW

  Stephen and Orissa both sprang to their feet, startled by the interruption. A tall man, having a stoop to his shoulders, had parted the entrance curtains and stood looking at them. He wore blue goggles, an automobile cap and duster, and heavy shoes; but Orissa recognized him at once.

  “Mr. Cumberford!” she exclaimed.

  “Dear me!” said the man; “it’s the young lady from Burthon’s office — and my friend.” He laughed, lightly, as if amused by the recollection; then added: “I’ve run out of gasoline and my car is stranded a quarter of a mile off. Think you could furnish me enough of the elusive fluid to run me into town?”

  Steve walked silently to his gasoline tank. He was excessively annoyed to have a stranger spy upon his workshop and resolved to get rid of the man in short order. Orissa also was silent, fearing Mr. Cumberford might linger if she entered into conversation with him. The spot was so retired that until now no one but themselves had ever entered the hangar, and the secret had been well kept.

  “Here’s a two-gallon can,” said Stephen, surlily. “Will that do you?”

  Mr. Cumberford nodded, set the can upon the ground and walked over to the bench, where he calmly seated himself beside the girl.

  “What are you up to, here?” he asked.

  “Our own especial business,” retorted Steve. “You will pardon me, sir, if I ask you to take your gasoline and go. This is private property.”

  “I see,” said Cumberford. “I’m intruding. Never mind that. Let’s talk a bit; I’m in no hurry.”

  “We are very much occupied, sir,” urged Orissa, earnestly.

  “No doubt,” said the man. “I overheard a remark as I entered. You were wondering whether to accept Burthon’s offer and give him a half interest. Eh? That interests me; I’m Burthon’s brother-in-law.”

  He glanced around him, then calmly took a cigarette from his pocket and offered one to Steve.

  “I can’t allow smoking here, sir; there’s too much gasoline about,” said the boy, almost rudely.

  “True. I forgot.” He put the case in his pocket. “You’re building some sort of a — er — er — flying machine, I see. That interests me. I’m a crank on aviation. Is this the thing Burthon wants a half interest in?”

  Steve scowled. When Cumberford turned to Orissa she slightly nodded, embarrassed how to escape this impertinent questioning.

  “I thought so. Then you’ve really got something?”

  Steve laughed. His annoyance was passing. The man had already seen whatever there was to see, for his eyes had been busy from the moment he entered. And Steve remembered that this was the person who had outwitted Mr. Burthon in the mine deal.

  “I have something that will fly, if that is what you mean,” he replied.

  “Yes; that is what I mean. Tried the thing yet?”

  “Oh, yes,” said Orissa eagerly. “It flew splendidly yesterday morning, but — but Steve had an accident with his aeroplane, and a bull demolished what was left of it.”

  “Ah; that interests me; it really does,” said Cumberford. He looked at Stephen more attentively. “Your brother, Miss Kane?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And you need money?”

  “To rebuild the machine, and perfect it; yes, sir.”

  “And Burthon will furnish the money, for a half interest?”

  “Yes, sir,” repeated the girl, uneasy at his tone. “Too much,” asserted Mr. Cumberford, positively. “Burthon’s a rascal, too. You know that, Miss Kane. Tried to rob me; and you tried to prevent him. I haven’t forgotten that; it was a kindness. I’ve had to fight a cold, hard, selfish world, and fight it alone. I’ve won; but it has made me as cold, as hard and selfish as the others. You’re different, Miss Kane; the world hasn’t spoiled you yet. I can’t recollect when anyone ever took the trouble to do me a kindness before. So I, your direct opposite, admire you for your originality. I’m a scoundrel and you’re a — an honest girl.”

  There wasn’t a particle of emotion in his voice, but somehow both Orissa and Stephen knew he was in earnest. It was difficult to say anything fitting in reply, and after a brief pause the man continued:

  “I can see that your airship is at present something of a wreck. How much money do you need?”

  “I ought to have at least a thousand dollars,” answered Steve, reflectively glancing around the shop. Cumberford’s eyes followed his.

  “Will two thousand do it?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “I’ll lend you three,” said the man. “I don’t want a half interest. I won’t rob you.”

  Both boy and girl stared at him in amazement. “What security do you require?” asked Stephen, suspiciously.

  “Eh? None at all. The thing interests me. If you make a lot of money, I’ll let you pay me back some day. That’s fair. If you fail, you’ll have worries enough without having to repay me. But I attach two conditions to my offer. One is that you have nothing to do with Burthon. The other is that I have permission to come here and watch your work; to advise with you at times; to help you map out your future career and to attend all the flying exhibitions in which you take part. Agree to that, and I’ll back you through thick and thin, because I’m interested in aviation and — because your sister was good to me.”

  “I’ll do it, sir!” cried Steve, excitedly.


  “Oh, thank you! Thank you, Mr. Cumberford,” added Orissa, in joyful tones.

  “It’s a bargain,” said Cumberford, smiling at them both. He took out a fountain pen and wrote a check on a Los Angeles bank for three thousand dollars in favor of Stephen Kane. But he handed it to Orissa.

  “Now then,” said he, “tell me something about it.”

  CHAPTER X

  A FRESH START

  When Orissa appeared at the office Monday morning she went quietly about her work, feeling very happy indeed. The astonishing generosity of Mr. Cumberford had relieved all her worries and brought sunshine into her heart.

  Mr. Burthon came at his usual time and on taking his place at the desk looked inquiringly at Orissa, but said nothing. Neither did she mention the subject of the aircraft. Her employer, watching her stealthily from behind his desk, could not fail to note the joy in her face and was undoubtedly puzzled to account for it — unless, indeed, she and her brother had decided to accept his proposition. He had an idea that they would accept; that they must accept; it was the only way they could carry on their experiment. But he waited for her to refer to the subject.

  Orissa managed to escape that night while a customer was engaging Mr. Burthon’s attention. She disliked, for some unexplained reason, to tell him they had decided not to take him for a partner. Arriving home she found Steve busily at work rebuilding his airship, and it pleased her to hear his cheery whistle as she approached the hangar. The young fellow was in capital spirits.

  “You see, Ris,” said he, “with all this money to use I shall be able to make an entirely new automatic balance. I’ve come to the conclusion the first one doesn’t work smoothly enough to be entirely satisfactory. I shall also provide a store of extra ribs and such parts as are liable to get damaged, so that the repair work will be a matter of hours instead of days. How lucky it was Mr. Cumberford ran out of gasoline yesterday.”

  “He’s a queer man,” replied Orissa, thoughtfully. “I can’t make up my mind yet whether I like him or not.”

  “I like his money, anyhow,” laughed Steve; “and we didn’t have to give him a half interest to get it, either. I imagine the man was really touched by your endeavor to save him from what you thought was a bad bargain, and certainly his magnanimous act could have been prompted by nothing but kindness.”