It was just there that Professor Morgan made his first mistake. It was true, as Bunk said, that he had no thought of leaving any message for his young friend, but since he had been forbidden to do so, the temptation to disobey was irresistible. Temporary resentment could not quench his affection for Harvey Hamilton.
“When he comes back and finds me gone, he’ll cry his eyes out; he’ll butt his head agin de wall and call on de hotel to fall down and mash him flat. Harv ain’t such a bad feller as some folks think.”
The result of all this was that Bunk wrote his farewell epistle in his room and had no trouble in handing it to the landlord who, as we know, carried out his wishes.
Now that the decision had been made, the colored youth was all eagerness to start. He was in mortal fear that Harvey would return at any moment. While Bunk was as resolute as ever he did not wish to come to an open quarrel with Harvey Hamilton.
Not once did a thought enter his mind that the aviator’s brain was muddled. He looked upon the strange person with awe and fear. While he might disregard instructions when the eye of his master was not upon him, nothing could have made him do so otherwise. The Professor’s hypnotic power was complete. By fixing those piercing orbs upon the negro, he could readily cast over him that strange spell which we have all seen and which made the youth as putty in his hands. The man did not call this ability into play, because the need had not as yet appeared, but he knew it was at his command whenever he wished to use it.
“We’re off for Afriky!” was the thrilling thought of Bunk, when he sat back in his seat and with swelling heart looked out into the radiant sky and the variegated landscape sweeping under him. Never was he so proud and never did his heart swell with such abounding emotion.
“Won’t Harv feel sorry when he sees me coming back from my visit to the great chief dat has de honor of being my fader? I’ll catch de biggest elephant in Afriky as I promised Harv and hang him to de bottom of dis machine so dat his legs will swing clear and he can see de country below him. I can make room fur de giraf in dis seat alongside ob me, and let his head stick frough de top where he can obsarbe eberyting in front and back and at de side, and above and below. Gee! how he’ll enjoy it.
“Chief Foozleum must be mighty rich. I’ll git him to gib me two or free bushels ob diamonds and sew ’em all ober my clothes and hab a big one on de end ob each foot.”
There was no end to the extravagant fancies that roved through the brain of Bohunkus. He looked at that strange figure in front, always sitting bolt upright with a hand loosely grasping a lever on each side, while he stared straight ahead as if trying to peer beyond the range of ordinary vision. For long intervals Bunk could not see the slightest movement of limb or head. The linen duster was buttoned closely about the gaunt form and as he sat on the lower end of the garment the keen wind did not cause any flapping. By and by there would be a slight twitch of one of the levers and a change in direction would follow, though otherwise it would not have been noticeable. Since the air was calm, a keen breeze was produced by the progress of the helicopter, which was traveling fully a mile a minute. Bunk had donned his heavy coat before starting and was glad he did so, for he had to rub his ears to keep them warm.
As was his custom the aviator flew low, sometimes approaching within a hundred feet of the tops of the trees or the tall buildings in the towns over which he skimmed. Bunk was startled once or twice by fear of a collision, but the Professor was not only a marvelous expert, but his machine responded with quick sensitiveness. At the slightest move of hand or foot it would turn to one side, dart upward or dive downward, as he willed. After a time Bunk’s misgiving left him and his confidence in the man became perfect.