Skyrider

by B. M. Bower

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  LET'S GO

  From a crooked willow branch thrust upright into the hard-packed sand tomark the entrance to the secret niche, a ripped flour sack hung limp inthe cool, still air of a red dawn. From the niche itself came the vibrantbuzzing of a high-powered motor to which Sandy listened with head up andears perked anxiously, his staring eyes rolling toward a feasible line ofretreat should panic overwhelm his present astonished disapproval.

  The buzzing drew steadily nearer the yawning mouth of the cleft. The airswirled with a fine, rushing cloud of sand, against which Johnny blinkedand pressed tight his lips while he dug his toes deep to guide and helppropel the airplane through the opening. Followed Mary V, walking on hertoes with excitement, swallowing dust without a murmur, her camera readyfor action when they emerged into a better light. In the pilot's seatBland Halliday, goggled and capped for flying, tested the controls beforehe eased the motor into its work.

  Johnny, with his head bent low against the backwash of dust, looked atMary V. Words were useless, worse than inadequate.

  Well out from the mouth of the cleft, on the barren strip before the sagegrowth began, Bland swung the plane so that it pointed to the west. Helifted a hand in signal, and Johnny leaned backward, digging in his heelsinstead of his toes. The huge man-made dragon fly stopped, buzzingvibrantly. Bland Halliday beckoned imperiously, and Johnny went up towhere he could hear.

  "I'm going to try her out on a straightaway first, before I take you in,"Bland leaned to shout. "Tell the girl she can be ready to snap me when Icome back. I've got to test out the controls, and I want you ready tograb 'er if she don't stop right along here somewhere. All right--outathe way!"

  Johnny ran back, away from the wing, and stood beside Mary V. He sawBland turn his head and glance out along the right wing, then to theleft. He caught a sense of Bland's tightening nerves, a mental andmuscular poising for the flight. The thrumming jumped to a throbbingroar. The plane ran forward like a plover, gathering speed as it went.Fifty yards--a hundred--the little wheels left the sand, the tail sagged,the nose pointed slightly upward. The throb accelerated as distancedimmed the roar, until once more the droning thrum dominated.

  "Oh-h-h!" gasped Mary V, and caught Johnny's arm and gripped it.

  Johnny did not hear, did not feel her fingers pressing hard upon hisbiceps. Johnny stood like a man hypnotized; wide-eyed, the white linearound his mouth, all his young soul straining after the airplane thatwent sailing away like a hawk balancing on outstretched wings.

  "Oh-h-h-h!" gasped Mary V again, and squeezed his arm withoutknowing that she did so. "O-h--he's coming back! See--see how hecircles--oh-h--he's doing an S, Johnny! Oh, Johnny, you lucky, lucky boy!Oh, and it's yours! Johnny Jewel, you've simply _got_ to let me fly!Oh-h, I'm going to learn too! Oh-h-Skyrider! You wooden image, you, whydon't you _say_ something?"

  Johnny looked at her, and there were tears pushing up to the edge of hiseyelids. He looked away quickly and blinked them back.

  Mary V bit her lip, abashed at the revelation of what this meant toJohnny. And then the drone was a roar again, and the airplane wasskimming down to them. A _pop-pop-pop--pop_, and the motor stilledsuddenly. The little wheels touched the ground, spurned it, touched againand came spinning toward them, reminding Johnny again of a lightingplover. The propeller revolved slower and slower, stopped at a rakishangle. Mary V felt the trembling of Johnny's arm as he pulled loose fromher and went up to steady the machine to its final stand.

  Bland Halliday pushed up his goggles. "She's runnin' like a new watch,"he announced. "Juh get a picture?" This last to Mary V.

  She shook her head, refusing to explain the omission. Bland turned toJohnny.

  "She's O.K., old man. All we gotta do now is load up and start. You surehave balled things up by not getting enough gas, though. How far is it tothat tank station--or some other that's closer?"

  "There isn't any closer. I don't know exactly, but--"

  "It's fifty-seven miles," Mary V fibbed hastily, and reached back a footto kick Johnny into silence.

  "Not air-line?"

  "Certainly, air-line. Do you realize that you rode _seventy-five miles_,the way you came? And it's pretty rough country to land on, if you ranout of gas." She gave Johnny another kick, which Bland could not observebecause of the wing they were leaning against.

  Bland's mouth pulled down at the corners. "I _told_ yuh we needed moregas," he complained. "Where'd you git the idea of packing gas in a tincup to run an airplane on?"

  "Where'd you get the idea we could pack a fifty-gallon drum onhorseback?" Johnny retorted. "Believe me, you're lucky to get any atall!"

  "I'll say this is some country!" Bland observed sourly. "Here we are--allready to go--and not enough gas to take us to the railroad, even! Well,get in. I'll joy-ride yuh up and down this damn' scenery till the gasgives out."

  "You'll teach me to fly. There's enough gas for one good lesson, anyway."

  "Oh, all right. Sure, I'll teach you, if you're able to learn. But youhustle more gas down here, see? I'm all fed up on this country, and Iain't denying it. First off, we'll do a straightaway. I spotted a goodlevel strip of ground over there a ways; that'll do to teach you how toland. Then we'll come back and fly straight off east for a ways, andcircle and come back. How does that suit?"

  "Fine and dandy. Hold my hat, Mary V." Johnny went to the front, reachedhigh and caught the propeller blade. "All ready?" he cried, with the airof a veteran.

  "A'right!" answered Bland, and Johnny put his weight into the pull,failed to "turn 'er over," took a deep breath and tried it again. Thethird attempt set the propeller whirling in a blurred circle. The motorwoke to throbbing life again.

  "Help me turn 'er first," called Bland, with a gesture to make hismeaning clear.

  "'Bye, Mary V! Now's your chance to get a picture--but you'll have tohurry!"

  Johnny climbed up, straddled into the seat ahead of Bland. He placed hisfeet, pulled down his goggles, grasped the wheel and felt himselfbalanced--poised, with a drumming beat in his throat, a suffocatingfulness in his chest. His moment had come, he thought swiftly, as onethinks when facing a sudden, whelming event. The biggest moment in hislife--the moment that he had dreamed of--the culmination of all his hopeswhile he studied and worked--the moment when he took flight in anairplane of his own!

  "Easy on the controls, bo, till you get the feel of it." Bland leaned toshout in his ear. "You can over-control, if yuh don't watch out. You feelmy control. Don't try to do anything yourself at first. You'll come intoit gradual."

  He sat back, and Johnny waited, breathing unevenly. He had meant to wavea hand nonchalantly to Mary V, but when the time came he forgot.

  The motor drummed to a steady roar. The plane started, ran along the sandfor a shorter distance than before, smoothed suddenly as it left theground, climbed insidiously. The beat in Johnny's throat lessened. Heforgot the suffocated feeling in his chest. He glanced to the right andlooked down on the ridge that held the hangar in its rocky face. Aperfect assurance, a tranquil exaltation possessed him. Godlike he wasriding the air--and it was as though he had done it always.

  He frowned. The earth, that had flattened to a gray smoothness, roughenedagain, neared him swiftly. Ahead was a bare, yellow patch--they werepointed toward it at a slackened speed. They were just over it--thewheels touched, ran for ten feet or so, bounced away and returned again.They were circling slowly, just skimming the surface of the ground. Theyslowed and stopped, the plane quivering like a scared horse.

  "Fine!" Bland shouted above the eased thrum of the motor. "You donefine, but seems like you showed a tendency to freeze onto the wheelwhen we were coming down; yuh don't wanta do that, bo. Keep your controleasy--flexible, like. Now we'll go back where the girl is and make alanding there. And then we'll make a flight--as far as is safe on ourteacup of gas!"

  "I brought five gallons; that ought to run us a ways," Johnny pointedout. "I didn't want to land, that is why I froze to the wheel, as youc
all it. I wanted to keep a-goin'!"

  "You get me the gas, and we'll keep a-goin', all right, all right! I gota hunch, bo, you're holding out on me."

  "Forget it! Let's go!"

  Again the short run, the smooth, upward flight, the slower descent, thebouncing along to a stop.

  "You done better, bo. I guess this ain't the first time you ever flew,if you told it all. I hardly touched the controls. Now, say! On thesquare--where's that gas at? She's working perfect, and now's the timewe oughta beat it outa here, before something goes wrong. I _know_ you'vegot more gas than what you claim you've got."

  "You know a lot you just think. I'll send for some, right off. Let's go.No use burning gas standing still!"

  Mary V, her camera sagging in her two hands so that the lens looked atthe wheels, gazed wistfully after them as they rose and went humming awaytoward the rising sun, that had just cleared the jagged rim of mountainsand was gilding the ledge behind her. They climbed and swerved a littleto the south, evidently to avoid looking straight into the sun.

  Sandy stamped and snorted, tugging at the rope that tied him. Mary Vlooked down, away from the diminishing airplane, and gave a shrill cry ofdismay.

  "Jake! You come back here--_Whoa!_"

  She stood with her mouth partly open, staring down along the ledge towhere Jake, whom she had daringly borrowed again because of his strengthand his speed that could bring her to Sinkhole in time to watch the trialflight, was clattering away with broken bridle reins snapping. Sandywanted to follow. When she ran toward him to catch him before he brokeloose, he, too, snapped a rein and went racing away after Jake.

  Mary V stamped her foot, and cried a little, and blamed Bland Hallidayfor flying down that way where Jake could see him and get scared. She hadbeen very careful to tie Jake back out of sight of the strip of sandwhere Johnny had told her they would make their start and their landing.It wasn't her fault that she was set afoot--but Bland Halliday just_knew_ Jake would be scared stiff if he went down past where he was, andhe had done it deliberately. And now Sandy was gone, too--and Johnny onlyhad a couple of bronks in the little pasture--and she would just like toknow what she was going to _do_? She should think that the least Johnnyand Bland could do would be to come back and--do _something_ about thehorses. They surely must have seen Jake running away, and Johnny wouldhave sense enough to know what that meant.

  But Johnny, as it happened, was wholly absorbed in other things. He wasnot thinking of horses, nor of Mary V, nor of anything except flying. Hewas crowding into a few precious minutes all the pent emotions of hisdearest dreams. He was getting the "feel" of the controls, putting histheoretical learning to the test, finding just how much and how littleit took to guide, to climb, to dip. Bland Halliday was a good flyer, andhe was doing his best, showing off his skill before Johnny.

  He shut off the motor for a minute and volplaned. "Great way to see thecountry!" he shouted, and climbed back in an easy spiral.

  Johnny looked down. They were still within the lines of the Rolling Rrange, he could tell by a certain red hill that, from that height, lookedsmall and insignificant, but red still and perfect in its contour. Beyondhe could see the small thread stretched across a half-barren slope--thefence he meant to inspect that day. Between the red hill and the fencewere four moving dots, following behind several other smaller dots, whichhis range-trained eyes recognized as horses driven by men on horseback.

  The airplane circled hawklike, climbed higher, and disported itself in anS or two and a "figure eight," all of which Johnny absorbed as a spongeabsorbs water. Then, pointing, flew straight.

  They were going back to the ledge. Johnny's heart sank at thought of oncemore creeping along on the surface of the earth like a worm, toiling overthe humps and the hollows that looked so tiny from away up there. Hewanted to implore Bland to turn and go back, but he did not know how longthe gasoline would last, and he was afraid they might be compelled toland in some spot a long way from his rock hangar. He said nothing,therefore, but strove to squeeze what bliss remained for him in the nextminutes, distressingly few though they were.

  As it happened, Bland did not know the topography of Sinkhole as didJohnny, and in the still air the flour sack did not flutter. Bland was ina fair way to fly too far. Johnny knew they were much too high to land atthe cleft unless they did an abrupt dive, and he did not quite like theprospect. He let Bland go on, then daringly banked and circled. Bland haddone it, half a dozen times--so why not Johnny? Luck was with him--orperhaps his sense of balance was true. He did not side-slip, and he madethe turn on a downward incline, which brought them closer to earth. Hesought out the place where Mary V, a tiny wisp of a figure, stood besidethe cleft, and flattened out as the ground came rushing up to meet him.

  To all intents Johnny made that landing alone, for if Bland helped he didnot say so. Johnny was positive that he had made it himself, and hissense of certainty propelled him whooping to where Mary V stood, hercamera once more slanted uselessly in her two hands, her lips set in aline that usually meant trouble for somebody.

  "How's that--hunh? Say, there's nothing like it! Did you get a picture ofthat landing I made? Say--"

  "It seems to me that you are doing all the saying, yourself," MaryV interrupted him unenthusiastically. "It may be all very nice foryou, Johnny Jewel, to go sailing around in an aeroplane. I supposeit _is_ very nice for you. I grant that without argument. But as forme--" Sympathy for herself pushed her lips into a trembling, forced aquiver into her voice.

  "As for _me_, you went and stampeded Jake so he broke loose and went offlike a--a bullet! And Bill Hayden will just about _murder_ me for takinghim; I was going to sneak him back while the boys were out after morehorses, and sneak out again with Tango so Bill wouldn't know. And now_look_ what a mess you've got me into! Of course _you_ don't care--youand your darned old flying machine! I wish it had busted itself all topieces! And you too! And Sandy's stampeded after Jake, and I'm just gladof it!" She gulped, forced back further angry-little-girl storming, andrecovered her young-lady sarcasm.

  "But please don't let me interrupt your very fascinating new pastime. Ofcourse, since you are a young man of leisure, playing with your new toymust seem far more important than the fact that I have about twenty milesto walk--through the sand and the heat, and not even a canteen of waterto save me from parching with thirst. I--I must ask you to pardon mefor--for thrusting my merely personal affairs upon your notice. Well,what are you grinning about? Do you think it's _funny_?"