“Tut, tut, boys. None of that. That isn’t clever.”
Several of the boys now took hold of the wreck and lifted it into the wagon. It was a strange looking sight as they carted it over the rock road.
They arrived back at Lakefarm earlier than they had expected, but the boys were not required to return to their class work until afternoon. The wreck of the aeroplane was stored away in an empty shed, and the incident was closed pending an explanation from the injured aviator.
CHAPTER V
LOST!
Next day Dr. Byrd related an aeroplane story to the boys in the assembly room. It was the story of Mr. Johnson Miles, the aviator who lay on a bed in the “Hospital” striving to help mend his broken bones by thinking hopeful thoughts. It was a story of absorbing interest to the young Scouts and afforded material for much excited conversation for several days thereafter.
Mr. Miles had related his experiences in detail. He said that his home was in Indianapolis and that he had flown all the way from that city in his aeroplane. He had already spent several weeks among and over the mountains, his purpose being to visit the Rockies as a bird would visit them, and to collect specimens.
“I was on my way to Flathead Mountain when I fell almost at its base,” he told the doctor. “It was moonlight and I thought I would fly awhile, as it is really mighty pleasant to sail through the air with the moon and stars overhead. It’s like racing along a lonely road in an automobile and seeing a ghost behind every post.”
“You have an odd idea of enjoyment,” remarked the doctor.
“Oh, it’s thrilling,” declared the aviator. “The ghosts can’t catch you in an automobile, and you just cut right through them in the air.
“But I was forced to stay up longer than I wanted to. The country was so rough that I could find no place to land. Then I found my gasoline almost gone and I knew I must glide and take my chances. The engine began to jerk and sputter and gasp, warning me of immediate danger.