by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
INTO MEXICO AND RETURN
Bright-eyed, eager for the adventure trail, Johnny swung the propellerof the Thunder Bird over three times and turned to Cliff. "Here'swhere you learn one of the joys of flying. Hold her there while Iclimb in. When I holler contact, you kick her over--if you're manenough."
Cliff smiled, dropped his cigarette and ground it under his heel, thenreached up and grasped the propeller blade. "I never actually didthis, but I've watched others do it. I suppose I must learn. Oh,before we go up, I ought to tell you that I'd like to go on over theline this morning if possible. If you can fly very high, and when younear the line just glide as quietly as possible, I think it can bemanaged without our being seen. And since it is only just daylightnow, it should not be late when we arrive."
"It should not," Johnny agreed. "Arriving late ain't what worries aflyer--it's arriving too doggone unexpected. Where do we light, inMexico? Just any old place?"
"Straight toward Mateo's camp, first--flying very high. From there onI'll direct you. Shall we start?"
"You're the doctor," grunted Johnny, not much pleased with Cliff'shabit of giving information a bit at a time as it was needed. Itseemed to betray a lack of confidence in him, a fear that he might telltoo much; though how Johnny could manage to divulge secrets while hewas flying a mile above the earth, Cliff had probably not attempted toexplain.
Because he was offended, Johnny gave Cliff what thrills he could duringthat flight. He went as high as he dared, which was very high indeed,and hoped that Cliff's ears roared and that he was thinking pleasantthoughts such as the effect upon himself of dropping suddenly to thatsliding relief map away down below. He hoped that Cliff was afraid ofbeing lost, and of landing on some high mountain that stuck up like alittle hill above the general assembly of dimpled valleys and spinyridges and hills. But if Cliff were afraid he did not say so, and whenthe double-pointed hill that Johnny had reason to remember slid towardthem, Cliff pointed ahead to another, turned his head and shouted.
"See that deep notch in the ridge away off there? Fly toward thatnotch."
Johnny flew. The double-pointed hill drifted behind them, other hillsslid up until the two could gaze down upon their highest peaks.Beyond, as Cliff's maps had told him, lay Mexico. At eight thousandfeet he shut off the motor and glided for the notched ridge. Thepatrol who sighted the Thunder Bird at that height, with no motor humto call his attention upward, must have sharp eyes and a habit ofsky-gazing. Cliff, peering down over the edge of the cockpit, musthave thought so, for he laughed aloud triumphantly.
"Fine! I think we are putting one over on my friends, the guards," hecried, with more animation than Johnny had yet observed in him.Indeed, it occurred to Johnny quite suddenly that he had never heardCliff Lowell laugh heartily out loud before. "How far can you keepthis up--without the motor?"
"Till we hit the ground," drawled Johnny, who was enjoying his positionof captain of this cruise. He had been taking orders from Cliff forabout forty-eight hours now without respite save when he slept, andeven his sleep had been ordered by Cliff.
"I could make that twelve miles or so from here, though. Why?"
"In the twelve miles you would not be using gas--could you glide to theridge, circle and fly high again, and back to Mateo's camp withoutstopping for gas?"
Johnny gave a grunt of surprise. "I guess I could," he said. "Why?"
"Then do it. Just that. On this side of the notch you will see--whenyou are close enough--a few adobe buildings. I want to pass over thosebuildings at a height of, say, five hundred feet; or a little lowerwill be better, if you can make it. Then circle and come back again.And try and make the return trip as high as you did coming down, untilyou are well past those mountains we passed over, just inside the line.Then come down at camp as inconspicuously as possible. I may add thatas we pass over the buildings I mentioned, please start your motor. Iam not expected at just this time, and I wish to attract attention."
"Hunh!" grunted Johnny. "You'd sure attract attention if Ididn't--because how the deuce would you expect me to climb back fromfive hundred feet to eight thousand or so, without starting the motor?"
Cliff did not answer. He was busy with something which he had broughtwith him; a square package to which Johnny had paid very littleattention, thinking it some article which Cliff wanted to have in camp.
Evidently this was not to be a news-gathering trip, though Johnny couldnot see why not, now they were over here. Why just sail over a fewhouses and fly home? He could see the houses now, huddled against theridge. A ranch, he guessed it, since half the huddle appeared to besheds and corrals. A queer place to gather news of internationalimportance, thought Johnny, as he volplaned down toward the spot. Hethrew in the motor and was buzzing over the buildings when Cliffunstrapped himself, half rose in his seat and lifted something in hisarms.
"Steady," he cried. "I want to drop this over." Whereupon he heavedit backward so that it would fall clear of the wing, and peered afterit through his goggles for a minute. "You can go home now," he shoutedto Johnny, and settled down in his seat with the air of a man who hasdone his duty and has nothing more on his mind.
Mystified, Johnny spiraled upward until he had his altitude, andstarted back for the United States. Clouds favored him when he crossedthe boundary, hiding him altogether from the earth. Indeed, theycaused him to lose himself for a minute, so that when he dropped downbelow the strata of vapor he was already nearly over the double-pointedhill that was his landmark. But Cliff did not notice, and a littlejudicious manoeuvering brought him into the little valley and headedstraight for the oak, easily identified because Mateo was standingdirectly in front of it waving a large white cloth.
They landed smoothly and stopped exactly where Johnny had planned tostop. He climbed out, Cliff following more awkwardly, and the three ofthem wheeled the Thunder Bird under the oak where it was completelyhidden.
It was not until he had come out again into the warm sunshine ofmid-morning that Johnny observed how the kiddies were playing theirpart. They had a curious little homemade wheelbarrow rigged, and weretrundling it solemnly up and down and over and around the single markmade by the tail drag. A boy of ten or twelve rode the barrow solidlyand with dignity, while a thin-legged girl pushed the vehicle. Behindthem trotted two smaller ones, gravely bestriding stick horses.Casually it resembled play. It would have been play had not Mateo goneout where they were and inspected the result of stick-dragging andbarrow-wheeling, and afterwards, with a wave of his hand and a fewswift Mexican words, directed them to play farther out from the oak,where the Thunder Bird had first come to earth. Solemn-eyed, theyextended the route of their procession, and Johnny, watching them witha queer grin on his face, knew that when those children stopped"playing" there would be no mark of the Thunder Bird's landing leftupon that soil.
"I've sure got to hand it to the kids," he told Cliff, who merelysmiled and pulled out his cigarette case for a smoke.