by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SKYRIDER "HAS FLEW"!
Just at dawn the humming of the airplane motor woke Mary V. She sat up inbed and listened, a little fear gripping at her heart; a fear which shefought with her reason, her hopes, and all her natural optimism. SurelyJohnny would not be foolish enough to attempt a flight that morning. Hemust be just trying put the motor. He would know he was not yet incondition to bear any physical or nervous strain, sick as he had been. Ofcourse he wouldn't be so selfish as to make a flight without so much asasking her if she would like to go with him. He knew she was simply crazyover flying.
By that time she was out on the porch, where she was immediately joinedby her father and mother, also awakened by the motor. They were just intime. From the neighborhood of the corral came an increasing roar. Asudden rush of cool morning wind brought dust and bits of hay and gravelflying in a cloud. A great, wide-winged, teetering bird-thing went racingout into sight, spurned the earth and lifted, climbed steadily, circlinglike a hungry hawk over a meadow full of mice.
"By heck, the boy can fly, all right!" Sudden paid tribute to Johnny'sskill in one unpremeditated ejaculation. "An airplane using our verydooryard for a flying field, mommie! Times are certainly changing."
Mary V bit her lip and blinked very fast while she watched the planego circling up and up, the motor droning its monotonous song like a hiveof honey bees at work. It was pure madness for Johnny to attempt flyingso soon again. He would be killed; anything could happen that wasterrible. She shut her eyes for a minute, trying to rout a swift visionof Johnny crumpled down limp in the pilot's seat as she had seen him thatday--nearly a month ago--with Bland, white-faced and helpless, walkingaimlessly around the crippled plane, so sure Johnny was dead that hewould not touch him to find out. If anything like that should happenagain, Mary V believed that she would go crazy. She simply couldn'tstand it to go through such a horror again.
The plane was circling around once more and flew straight northeast. Theywatched it until they could not hear the humming; until it looked like abird against the glow of sunrise.
"Hm-mm, I wonder where--" Sudden began, but Mary V did not stay to hearthe rest of the sentence.
She went back and crept into her bed, sick at heart with an unnamed fearand a hurt that went deep into her soul. She gave a little, dry sob ortwo and lay very still, her face crushed into a pillow.
But Mary V was not born to take life's hurts passively. Presently shedressed and went straight down to the bunk house, where she knew the boyswould be at their breakfast--unless they had finished and gone to thecorral. She walked into the old-fashioned, low-ceiled living room whereshe had first learned to walk, and stood just inside the door, smiling alittle.
Bud had just finished eating, and was rolling a cigarette before he gotup from the long table. The others were finishing their coffee and hotbiscuits, and they said hello to Mary V and went on undisturbed.
"Hello--what's all that racket I heard as I was getting up?" Mary Vinquired lightly. "My good gracious, I thought you boys had started asawmill--or maybe somebody had overslept down here and was snoring. Itsounded like Aleck."
They laughed, and Curley spoke. "That there was Skyrider. He has flew--"
Bud, fumbling for a match, had a fit of genius. He grinned, cleared histhroat, and began to warble unexpectedly.
"Skyrider-r has flew into-o the blew Ta-da, da-da, da-daa-a-a-- No-obody knew what he aimed to do Till he went and said adieu.
"Says he, 'Good-bye, I aim to fly To foreign lands, ta da-a--'"
"Oh, for gracious _sake_, Bud! I always knew you were queer at times, butI really didn't know you had fits. So it was Skyrider riding off to callon Venus, was it? I wish I had seen him start; but that's just my luck,of course. Er--_where_ was he going? Or didn't he say?"
"He didn't say. But he shook hands with us and told us we had treated himwhite at times, and that some day he'd write--"
"Oh, say! I got a letter he left for your father," Curley broke in. "I'llgit it and you can take it up to the house." He gave Mary V a mysteriouslook and went into the room where he slept.
Mary V followed him as far as the door, and saw Curley take two lettersfrom under his pillow. Her heart gave a jump at that, and it began tobeat very fast when he turned and put them into her hand with anothermysterious look. She thanked him and hurried out on the porch andstraight to her pet ledge. Her dad's letter could wait.
On the ledge she sat down, and with fingers that shook she tore open, anenvelope addressed to "Miss Mary V. Selmer, care of Curley." It had beensealed very tightly, as though it contained secrets. Which it did.
Mary V read that letter through from beginning to end five times beforeshe left the ledge. It was not exactly a love letter, either, though MaryV squeezed it between her palms and then kissed it before she put it awayout of sight. After that she cried lonesomely and stared away into thatpart of the sky where Johnny and his airplane had last been adisappearing speck.
"_Dear Mary V_," (Johnny had written) "I'm not going to tell anybody good-bye. Not even you, or I might say especially not you. It's hard enough to go as it is.
"Maybe you won't care much, but I am a hopeful cuss, and I'm going to build air castles about you till I come back, which I hope to do when I have made good. I made an awful mess of things here, and it's up to me to make good now before I say anything to you about air castles and so on.
"I told you once that they need flyers in France, and that's where I'm going if they will have me. I've got to fly and that's all there is to it, and I can't fly and be a stock hand at one and the same time because the two don't go together worth a cent, and I have sure found that out, and so has your dad, I guess.
"Well, I can't ask you to wait till I have made good, because that wouldn't be square, but I can say that when I have made good I am coming back, and then if some other fellow has got the start of me he will sure have to go some to keep his start. Because I am going to have you some day, if I have anything to say about it. I'll teach you to fly, and we will sure part the clouds like foam and all the rest of it. You've got more nerve than any other girl I ever saw, and, anyway, I'd like you just the same if you was a coward, because I couldn't help it no matter what you was, just so you were Mary V.
"So good-bye, and look for me back with my chest all dolled up with medals, because I am sure coming if you will let me. When I get to Tucson, I'll call you up on long distance, and then if your folks ain't in the room, I wish you'd tell me if it's all right with you, my loving you the way I do. Or if they are in the room, you can just say 'all right,' and I'll know what you mean. And anyway I'll write to you and I hope you'll write to me, because I am sure going to miss you till I come back. I wish I had the nerve to go right up to the house and tell you all this instead of writing, but I know I couldn't do it, so I won't try. But you be sure and let me know some way over the 'phone. So good-bye for the present. Always your faithful Skyrider, Johnny."
His letter to her father was not so long, and it was more coherent. ToSudden he had written:
Mr. Selmer.
_Dear Sir_,--I have decided to fly my airplane to where I can sell it, and will turn the money over to you to help pay for the expense you have been under of having your horses stole. I can't find out how many you lost all told, but whatever I can get for the plane will not cover it, I am afraid, so I will make up the balance as soon as possible.
I want to thank you for all the kindness of yourself and family while I was sick, and before and afterwards. You have certainly treated me white, and much better than I deserve, and I certainly appreciate it all, and some day I will refund every nickel you are out on account of having me in your employ. The doctor's bill I intend to pay and the nurse, too, and whatever you were out on getting the plane repaired.
I am thinking of enlisting somewhere as an aviator, as that seems to be my chosen field. I am leaving early in the morning if the weat
her is all right for flying, and one of the boys will give you this letter so you will know why I went and not think I sneaked off. I am fully determined to make good, and when I have done so I will come back and finish squaring up for your trouble and expense in having the horses stole. I feel that I balled things up bad, and it is my desire to square everything up.
I feel that it is merely the square thing to tell you I love your daughter Mary V, and I hope you will not object to having me marry her when I have made good. Of course, I would not want to until I had done so. And I hope that will be all right with you; but if it isn't, it is only fair to tell you that you won't be able to stop me if she is willing, and I hope she is. So I am merely telling you, and not asking, because that ain't my style; when I have made good I will do my asking to Mary V. And I hope you will not think I have got my gall, because I am very grateful for all you have done for me and your family also. I will write when I have made some deal to turn the plane so I can send you whatever it brings.
Yours truly,
John Ivan Jewel.
Old Sudden did not say anything when he had read that letter--read ittwice, to be exact. He folded it carefully and gave it to his wife toread, and sat smoothing down his face with his hand while she studied it,reading slowly, sometimes going back to get the full meaning out of asomewhat involved sentence.
"Johnny's a dear boy," she observed meditatively, after they had sat fora little while in silence. "I hope he doesn't enlist in that terriblewar; it's so dangerous!"
Sudden turned in his chair and looked in through a window to where Mary Vwas sitting very quietly within three feet of the telephone, her album of"Desert Glimpses" in her lap. Undoubtedly Mary V was listening, but shewas also undoubtedly waiting for something. He looked at his wife, andhis wife also glanced into the room and caught the significance of MaryV's position and attitude.
The telephone rang, and Mary V dropped the album in her haste to answerthe call. She glanced out at them while she announced, "Yes, this isMary V--it's _all right_--right on the porch, but it's all right--"
Dad and mommie took the hint and withdrew.
THE END
* * * * *
B. M. BOWER'S NOVELS
CHIP OF THE FLYING U. Wherein the love affairs of Chip and Della Whitmanare charmingly and humorously told.
THE HAPPY FAMILY. A lively and amusing story, dealing with the adventuresof eighteen jovial, big hearted Montana cowboys.
HER PRAIRIE KNIGHT. Describing a gay party of Easterners who exchange acottage at Newport for a Montana ranch-house.
THE RANGE DWELLERS. Spirited action, a range feud between two families,and a Romeo and Juliet courtship make this a bright, jolly story.
THE LURE OF THE DIM TRAILS. A vivid portrayal of the experience of anEastern author among the cowboys.
THE LONESOME TRAIL. A little branch of sage brush and the recollection ofa pair of large brown eyes upset "Weary" Davidson's plans.
THE LONG SHADOW. A vigorous Western story, sparkling with the freeoutdoor life of a mountain ranch. It is a fine love story.
GOOD INDIAN. A stirring romance of life on an Idaho ranch.
FLYING U RANCH. Another delightful story about Chip and his pals.
THE FLYING U'S LAST STAND. An amusing account of Chip and the other boysopposing a party of school teachers.
THE UPHILL CLIMB. A story of a mountain ranch and of a man's hard fighton the uphill road to manliness.
THE PHANTOM HERD. The title of a moving-picture staged in New Mexico bythe "Flying U" boys.
THE HERITAGE OF THE SIOUX. The "Flying U" boys stage a fake bank robberyfor film purposes which precedes a real one for lust of gold.
THE GRINGOS. A story of love and adventure on a ranch in California.
STARR OF THE DESERT. A New Mexico ranch story of mystery and adventure.
THE LOOKOUT MAN. A Northern California story full of action, excitementand love.