He had already discovered that a man wearing a pilot’s outfit and who seemed to be in some authority, named Bart Hicks, was in addition to being in charge of the field, an instruction pilot whenever some young fellow aspired to learn the ropes, after fulfilling the examination necessary to being licensed as a full-fledged air pilot.
So it was the part of diplomacy on Jack’s part, when forced to make a choice, to accept this man’s offer under the belief that the amphibian would be better cared for and secured against any possibility of harm. Of course he had no reason whatever to fear any rough-house treatment, but long years ago young Ralston had learned the wisdom of “locking the door before the horse was stolen” and thereby saved himself considerable trouble.
An air pilot’s ship is to him what the valuable race-horse represents to the track plunger—a thing to be guarded at all times as the day of the great turf events draws closer since some desperate gambler might attempt to dope the animal in order to win his heavy wagers.
So too, it would be a simple thing to disable the motor of a plane or else so damage a wing that it must be out of the question for the craft to pursue its customary duties until it had been taken to a repair shop and put in condition. With time so valuable to them, so vital to Buddy Warner, they could not afford to take any chances.
Before he quitted the landing-field, he made up his mind to have a little confidential talk with Bart Hicks whom he had already sized up to be an honest, efficient airman to whom any one could tie with an assurance of being given a square deal.
“Perk, stick close to Suzanne—I’ll be back in a short time,” was what he said to his chum. The other wagged his head as though he understood, even though there must be a certain amount of deafness on his part, caused by the continual racket of the motor and propeller, lasting from the time they took off in the gigantic Colorado Canyon.
A number of willing hands took hold, and the big amphibian was shoved and hauled to a large hangar in which one ship had already been berthed. Jack incidentally learned that the doors would be closed immediately and locked, although no harm had ever been done a ship since the airport was established.
Jack had already noted that they were getting to be up to the times, as if the citizens might be of an enterprising sort. Landing lights had been installed while a flashing beacon close by had already started into action, showing that an airmail crate was expected any minute or else one was due to take off.
It was evident that Bart Hicks felt a certain amount of natural curiosity concerning these guests of the field. He had noted that their ship was a brand new one and also the fact that the pilot who brought it down so cleverly must be an experienced hand. Then too, the presence of Suzanne interested him in the bargain, she looked so confident and had all the little airs of a full-fledged pilot in the bargain—trust his old eyes to discover these patent facts.
“Come far, sir?” he was saying casually after the ship had been safely housed in the big hangar, doubtless the property of the aircraft company contracting with the Government for carrying the mails and express matter.