“Well, Bunk, I am afraid you will have to do your job over, for I saw him only a little while ago. He may be near at hand this minute.”
And Harvey glanced around as if alarmed by the probability of such a thing.
“Being dat am de way things stand, hadn’t we better emigrate, Harv?”
CHAPTER XV.
UNCLE TOMMY.
Like a sensible young man, Harvey Hamilton had made a study of his itinerary before leaving home. Allowing himself a margin of several days, he expected to rejoin his friends at the end of a fortnight. If all went well he would do so earlier, while there was always the possibility that he might be absent still longer.
He knew that the little town nestling several miles to the left was Darmore. It was at the base of a spur of the Alleghanies toward which he had been working his way from the first. His wish was to pass beyond the thickly settled districts. Nothing palls sooner upon an aviator than the endless succession of towns, villages, cultivated sections and monotonous scenery. While there must be a certain sameness in the expanses of forest there was always the chance of adventure which a normal youngster craves as he does his meals when hungry.
Harvey had meditated going to Darmore to renew his supply of fuel, but recalled that after passing the mountain ridge, another and larger town lay some miles away in the broad forest valley. He had enough gasoline to carry him thither and he decided to make the trip. He followed his general rule of not rising far above the altitude necessary to clear the tallest trees and elevations. Thus, viewed far from the rear, the aeroplane suggested that it was climbing the mountain side by resting upon and sailing over the billowy sea of foliage.
The summit proper was no more than two or three hundred yards in height, and having cleared it the young aviator mounted higher than before in order to secure a comprehensive view of the surrounding country and learn how correct his impressions were.
He was vastly pleased. Almost in a direct line and not far away lay Chesterton, a town of several thousand population and in the midst of a thriving section of the country. He traced the winding highways, the scattered farm houses, the broad, cultivated fields, the signs of busy life everywhere, and the enormous wealth of forest which continued up the farther slope, crowned the top of the ridge and stretched down the incline beyond.
The noisy motor in the sky and the queer looking object which seemed to be advancing sideways and at a rapid pace, drew attention wherever it was seen. Farmers riding over the dusty roads stopped their teams and stared aloft until they got kinks in their necks; men and women climbed to the roofs of their houses, as if the slight decrease of distance would help them, and breathlessly studied the strange sight, some of the spectators with the aid of spy-glasses; groups gathered on lawns, porches and in front of their homes; every window of a passenger train, to say nothing of the platforms, was wedged with curious observers, while several white puffs which shot upward from the steam whistle showed that the engineer was sending out a salutation to the aerial wanderer who could not hear it. Everybody had read of aeroplanes and seen pictures of them, but this was the first time the real thing had sailed into their sea of vision and no picture can stir like the actuality itself.