The Thunder Bird
Page 3
CHAPTER THREE
JOHNNY WOULD DO STUNTS
Bland woke him, just as day was coming. A new Bland, freshshaven,--with Johnny's razor,--and with a certain languid animation inhis manner that was in sharp contrast to his extreme dejection of thenight before.
"Thought I'd come out and see if you was going to make a flight thismorning," he said. "It's a good morning for it, bo. How's sheworking, these days? Old man at the ranch wouldn't let me try her outafter I'd fixed her up; said you was too sick to have the motor going.So I couldn't be sure I'd made a good job of it. Give you any trouble?"
Johnny sat up and knuckled his eyes, his mouth wide open in a capitalO. It seemed to him that Bland had his nerve, and he guessed shrewdlythat the aviator was simply making sure of his breakfast. When catscome back they have a fashion of hanging around the kitchen, heremembered. Oh, well, there was nothing to be gained by being nastyand even Bland's company was better than none.
"Hey, ain't yuh awake yet? I asked yuh how the motor's acting."
"O--o--h, aw-righ!" yawned Johnny, blinking around for his boots. "Iain't been flying much. Just flew over here from the ranch, and alittle circle now and then when something come along that looked likemoney. I wanted to keep her in good shape in case the gover'ment--"
"Trying to sell it back to the gover'ment, huh? I coulda told yuh, bo,they wouldn't take it as a gift. She's a back number now--a has-been,from the gover'ment viewpoint. Why don't you keep it? What yuh wantto sell it for, f'r cat's sake? She's a gold mine if you know how towork it, bo--take it from me."
"Well, I wish to thunder you'd show me the gold, then," Johnny retortedcrossly, pulling on his boots.
"Lend us a smoke, will yuh, old top? The money's here, all right, ifyuh just know how to get it out. And flying for the gover'ment ain'tthe way. I'll say a man's got to be his own boss if he wants to pulldown real money. Long as you're workin' for somebody else, he'sgetting the velvet. You ain't, believe me. And the gover'ment as aboss--"
"Well, good golly, come to the point!" snapped Johnny. "How can I makemoney with this plane?" He gave it a disgruntled look, and turned toBland. "She's a bird of a millionaire's toy, if you ask me," he said."She's a fiend for gas and oil, and every time you turn 'er aroundthere's some darned thing to be fixed or replaced. I'm about broke,trying to keep her up till I can sell out. It's coffee and sinkers foryou, old timer, if you're going to eat on me. Another meal like youhad last night, and we'll both have to skip a few in order to buy gasto joy-ride some cheap sport that lets on he's thinking of buying. Isuppose your idea is--"
"F'r cat's sake give me a chance to tell yuh! Course you'll go broketrying to support the plane. You're goin' at it backwards. Make theplane support you. That's my idea. And you do it by exhibition flyingfor money--not sailin' around giving the whole damn country a freetreat.
"I know--you think I'm a bum and all that; maybe you think I'm a crook,fer all I know. And you turn up your nose at anything I say. Butlemme tell yuh, old top, I ain't a D. and O. because I never made anymoney flyin'. It's because I blowed what I made. And it's because Imade so damn' much it went to my head and made a fool outa me. Listenhere, bo: I bought me a Stutz outa what I earned flyin' in oneseason--and I blowed money right and left and smashed the car and liketo of broke my neck, and had to pay damages to the other feller thatpeeled my roll down to the size of a pencil. The point is, it took_money_ to do them things, didn't it? And I made it flyin' my ownplane. That's what you want to soak into your system. _I made bigmoney flying_. What I done with the money don't need to worry you--youain't copyin' me for morals.
"Now what you want to do is learn some stunts, first off. You learn toloop and tail-slide and the fallin' leaf, and to write your name, andthem things. It ain't so hard--not for a guy like you that ain't gotsense enough to be afraid of nothing. The way you went off in thatplane with the girl made my hair stand on end, and that's no kiddin',neither. If you'd had a fear germ in your system you wouldn't 'a' donethat. But you done it, and got away with it, is the point. And youbeen gittin' away with it right along--and you not knowin' your motorany more'n I know ridin' on a horse!"
"Aw, say! That's goin' too far," protested Johnny, but Bland gave himno heed.
"You learn the stunts--early in the morning when there ain't the hulltown out to rubber--and then pull off an exhibition or two.Seventy-five dollars is the least you ever need to expect. Don't go inthe air for less. From that up--depends on how spectacular you are.The public loves to watch for the death fall. That's what they pay tosee--not hopin' you get killed, but not wantin' to miss seeing it incase yuh do. And with this the only airplane around here--why, say,bo, it's a cinch!"
Johnny fanned the smoke away from his face and eyed Bland with loftytolerance. "And where do you expect to come in? You needn't kidyourself into hoping I'll take you for a self-forgetful martyr person.What's the little joker, Bland?"
Bland turned his pale, opaque stare upon Johnny for a minute. "Aw, forcat's sake, gimme the doubt, bo! I'm human in more ways than tryin' tosee how much booze I kin lap up. It's a chance I want to start fresh.This bumming around ain't getting me anything. I'm sick of it. Yougotta be learnt to do exhibition stuff, and I'm the guy that can learnyuh. You'll want a mechanician to keep your motor in shape. I can_make_ a motor, gimme the tools. You want somebody that knows the gameto kinda manage things. You're Skyrider Johnny, same as the boys atthe ranch calls yuh. Yon gotta have a flunkey, ain't yuh? I'm willin'to be it. I'll change my name, so nobody needs to know it's BlandHalliday. Or you can gimme a share in the net profits, and I'll keepthe name and make it pull things our way. They's no use talking, bo,I've got the goods! The name Bland Halliday is a trademark forflyin'--and never mind if it also stands for damfool. I'll brace upand give yuh the best I got. Honest, that's what I want--a chance toget on my feet agin. I'd ruther help you fly your plane than fly oneof my own. I'd run amuck agin if I owned anything I could raise moneyon.
"If you think I tried to do you dirt, back there in the desert, bo,you're wrong. Ab-so-lutely. I thought you was fixing to double-crossme, and git away with the plane and leave me there. It got mygoat--I'll say it did--that desert stuff. So I hid the gas, so youcouldn't go off and leave me. But that's behind us. You can give me achance now to straighten up, and I can put you in the way to make bigmoney. You think it over, bo. They's no great hurry, and we can makea flight now and see how she stacks up. Be a sport--go fill up thetank and let's go."
Johnny ground the cigarette stub under his heel in the dirt, shruggedhis shoulders with a fine imitation of perfect indifference, andyawned. He would think over Bland's idea. He did not, of course,intend to fall for anything that did not look like good business, andhe was not at all anxious to have Bland for a partner. Indeed, havingBland for a partner was about the last thing Johnny would ever expecthimself to do. Still, there was no harm in letting Bland down easy. Aflight or two, maybe, would give Johnny some good pointers. He hadlearned much from Bland, in a very short time, he admitted readily tohimself. He could learn more, and he could let Bland go over themotor. By that time he would maybe have a buyer. If not, he wouldhave time to decide about exhibition flying.
Johnny did not know that as he went after gas his step was springierthan it had been for a long, long while. He did not know why it wasthat he whistled while he filled the torpedo-shaped tank--indeed,Johnny did not even know that he whistled, nor that it was the firsttime since he had worked over his plane down at Sinkhole Camp when allhis dreams were bright, and bad luck had not knocked at his door. Yethe did whistle while he made ready for flight, and his eyes were bigand round and eager, said he moved with the impatient energy of a youthgoing to his favorite game. These signs Mary V would have recognizedimmediately; Johnny did not know the signs existed.
Bland helped himself to a pair of new coveralls of Johnny's andtinkered with the motor. Johnny went around the plane, testing cablesand tr
ying to conceal even from himself his new hope of keeping it.
"All right, bo," Bland announced at last. "Kick the block away andlet's run her out. She sounds pretty fair--better than I expected."
It pleased Johnny that Bland seemed to take it as a matter of coursethat he should occupy the front seat. The last time they had flowntogether, Bland had occupied it perforce, with Johnny and two gunsbehind him. After all, Johnny reflected, he would not have been sosuspicious of Bland if Mary V had not influenced him. And every oneknows that girls take notions with very little reason for thefoundation. Bland was a bum, but the little cuss seemed to want tomake good, and a man would be pretty poor stuff that wouldn't help afellow reform.
With that comfortable readjustment of his mental attitude toward thebirdman, Johnny strapped himself in, pulled down his goggles whileBland eased in the motor. He saw Bland glance to right and left withthe old vigilance. He felt the testing of controls, the unconscioustensing of nerves for the start. They raced down the calf pasture,nosed upward and went whirring away from a dwindling earth, straighttoward the heart of the dawn.
It was like drinking of some heady wine that blurs one's troubles andpushes them far down over the horizon. Johnny forgot that he hadproblems to solve or worries that nagged at him incessantly. He forgotthat Mary V, away off there to the southwest, had probably criedherself to sleep the night before because he had disappointed her. Hewas flying up and away from all that. He was soaring free as a bird,and the rush of a strong, clean wind was in his face. The roar of themotor was a great, throbbing harmony in his ears. For a little whilethe world would hold nothing else.
They were climbing, climbing, writing an invisible spiral in the air.Bland half turned his head, and Johnny caught his meaning withtelepathic keenness. They were going to loop, and Bland wanted him toyield the control and to watch closely how the thing was done.
They swooped like a hawk that has seen a meadow mouse amongst thegrass. They climbed steeply, swung clean over, so that the earth wasoddly slipping past far above their heads; swung down, flattened outand flew straight. It was glorious.
A second time Bland looped, and yet again. It was exactly as Johnnyhad known it would be. He who had flown so long in his day-dreaming,who had performed wonderful acrobatics in his imagination, felt thesensation old, accustomed, milder even than in his dreams.
Once more, and he did the loop himself, hardly conscious of Bland'spresence. Bland turned his head, signalling, and did a flop, righted,and was flying straight in the opposite direction. Again, and flewsoutheast by the sun. They practised that manoeuver again and againbefore Johnny felt fairly sure of himself, but once he did it he wasone proud young man!
All this while the familiar landmarks were slipping behind them.Tucson was out of sight, had they thought to look for it. And all thiswhile the sturdy motor was humming its song of force triumphant.Subsequently it stuttered faintly in expressing itself. Triumph wasthere, but it was not so joyously sure of itself. Bland glided,cocking an anxious ear to listen while he slowed the motor. It wasthere, the stutter--more pronounced than before; and once that pulsingpower begins to flag a little and grow uncertain, there is but onething to do.
They glided another ten miles or so before Bland picked a spot thatlooked safe for landing. They had one ill-chosen landing still vividin their memory, and Johnny carried a long, white scar along the sideof his head and a tenderness of the scalp to assist him in remembering.
Wherefore they came down circumspectly in a flat little field beside aflat little stream, with a huddle of flat dwellings drawn back shylybehind a thin group of willows. They came down gently, bouncing towardthe willows as though they meant to drive up to the very doorway of thenearest hut. As they came on, their great wings out-spread rigidly,the propeller whirring at slackened speed, the motor sputteringunevenly, the doorway spewed forth three fat squaws and some nakedpapooses who fled shrieking into the brush behind the willows.