The business of Michel related mainly to mining. The houses were small and all faced the one street. Opposite the depot was the one hotel, two or three stores and half a dozen saloons. Several yards north of the hotel was a two-story frame building, the town hall. When Mr. Mackworth reached this, he stopped. In a half hour he was back at the car with the mayor of Michel, the hotelkeeper, and the principal storekeeper in his company. The town marshal was already at the car. The marshal and Mr. Mackworth’s other guests were ushered into the dining room of the Teton and for a quarter of an hour Jake Green was busy. Within an hour two ropes had been stretched across the street. On each hung this sign: “Take the back trail or hitch. Airship goes up at four P. M. to-morrow.”
From the time the Loon crates began to be unloaded, the vicinity of the private car resembled a circus lot. More than once the town marshal had to clear the place of crowding spectators. Frank and Phil, stripped to their shirts, were busy and happy.
Loungers pulled down their hat brims or sought the shade of the sidewalk awnings. But Frank and Phil seemed to mind neither heat nor dust. Mr. Mackworth, Captain Ludington and Lord Pelton had put off their smart traveling clothes and were in camp togs—flannel shirts, khaki trousers and laced knee boots.
Hosmer and Sam Skinner worked over the wagon outfits until noon and then announced all ready. After a hasty luncheon the entire party, including Skinner and old “Grizzly,” gathered near the boys. Mr. Mackworth had found nothing missing and there was no need of a trip to Fernie. For a time this seemed fortunate for, much to their surprise, the boys found a defect in the apparatus that slowed them up considerably.
The spruce upright holding the left landing wheel frame and its shock absorbing spring was discovered to have a fracture. This was the wheel that had caught in the tree the night the two boys made their perilous flight through the thunderstorm. The strain of packing or unpacking this part of the airship had developed a crack in the aluminum paint covering the upright. This indicated an interior fracture and a new upright had to be fashioned. The village carpenter was found and, supplying him with extra spruce, Frank spent two hours in the old man’s shop contriving a new support.
In spite of this, a little before six o’clock the monoplane had been completely set up. Disconnected from its shaft the beautiful engine responded immediately when started. Then a new problem arose. The boys had no hesitation in leaving the airship out of doors at night—there was nothing that dew or rain could harm—but they were apprehensive as to what the curious townspeople might do. But this question was quickly solved. Sam Skinner asking only for his blanket and permission to smoke, offered to sleep in the airship, “which,” he remarked, “beats any sleepin’ car shelf I ever saw.”
The boys were tired. Neither their condition nor Jake’s dinner could restrain them, however, and before their elders had finished their coffee the lads were back at the airship. The temptation was too great; they meant to give the Loon a short trip out in mountain land.
The marshal was busy as usual. At sight of him it occurred to Frank that an invitation to this official to have a ride in the Loon would be a proper return for the courtesies extended. The marshal not only refused but seemed afraid that he was about to be forced to accept the invitation.
Their own party finally appearing on the scene, each in turn was invited to make a flight. One after another had some excuse, Sam and “Grizzly” announcing simply that they were afraid.