“That’s so, but perhaps it snaps shut.” They lifted the cover, much as they would lift the hood of an automobile, and they saw that the main section folded into a long narrow space. Everything about the plane was brand new. The seats were heavy shiny brown leather with lighter shade trimmings. In front of the pilot’s seat the control board looked, at first glance, like any other machine’s, but on closer inspection they found it was equipped with several extra dials and indicators. On each side of the cock-pit were a pair of long slender glasses. There was a radio, for receiving and transmitting, speaking tube, hamper for the traveler’s convenience. The mirror was the shape of a globe and it had a reflector to cut off any part, or act as a protection for the whole sphere. It looked to the boys as if the altitude meter registered not only the height above the sea level, but it would automatically change according to the nature of the territory over which it would fly.
“Why, Buddy!!!” Jim discovered a long white envelope hanging on one of the parachute buckles and he detached it carefully.
“Does it give the chap’s name?”
“I’ll—why Buddy!” That was all Austin could say and he held out the envelope, which he had turned over. “Look!” Caldwell stared, and read mechanically.
“‘Merry Christmas to the Flying Buddies’—Flying?—Why Jim, that’s—great guns—it can’t be our—Say, what’s inside that envelope?” Jim was already opening it. He took out a folded sheet of heavy paper that looked like some sort of parchment. Swiftly he scanned the lines, then he jumped ten feet into the air and gave a whoop which bounded and rebounded like a ball. Bob caught the sheet from his hand and read.
“Flying Buddies: Christmas
Gentlemen:I hope to find a place in your hearts and that I shall be permitted to serve you through many happy excursions above the world. No man of your race has ever ridden in such a plane, but I am built so that you will miss none of the pleasure of good piloting. If you will be seated and replace the cover, it will be my pleasure to show you something extra in joy-rides.
I have no name, so I can only sign myself, at your service!”
“Come a-hopping, Buddy,” Jim shouted. He jumped into the cock-pit, but Bob hesitated.
“You haven’t a coat on.”
“The cabin is as warm as toast. Hustle, me brave lad, you are retarding progress, which is sinful.” Bob took the second seat, which was adjusted exactly the right size and shape, and Jim swiftly closed the cover. The motor began to purr gently, like a dozen contented lion cubs, and the plane lifted, spiraling in close circles until it reached a thousand feet, then the nose was turned north and she shot forward at a speed of nearly two hundred miles an hour. Austin was busily examining the paraphernalia on the board before his eyes, while Bob was simply too puzzled to do anything more than sit back and wonder if he was experiencing some sort of fantastic dream. In ten minutes the machine was dropping lightly in the Haurea front yard, where the Flying Buddies saw Zargo and the Don waiting for them.