“Trying to get rid of us,” laughed Mr. Cook. “Don’t you believe it. I’m going to see that airship unpacked and put together, if the whole works have to stop.”
“What’d ye suppose I come fur?” added Weston. “Fur a dollar a mile? And more,” he added for Mr. Cook’s apparent benefit, “I ain’t startin’ fur no timber patch till she’s flew, neither.”
“Good,” shouted Roy. “We’ll all get to work.”
By noon the corral looked like a cross between a hardware store and a sail loft. There was a high mesquite fence around the lot, but that by no means shut out visitors. The news of Roy’s advent had spread over town, and, since a man only visits Bluff to loaf, the quickly assembled audience soon lined the fence.
After examining the enclosure, Roy explained to Mr. Cook that it was by no means large enough to make a start from or a landing in. The manager at once put a squad of men at work removing the mesquite posts forming the fence at the far end of the corral. At first, the boy thought it would be well to erect a shed to shelter the aeroplane. Then he changed his mind about this. In the summer it seldom rained, and it was not improbable that the airship would be employed in the field quite as much as it would be resting in the corral.
The precious gasoline was stored in the feed shed. The precaution in bringing such a quantity of this was a wise one. And yet, before Doolin set out on his return trip to Dolores, Mr. Cook gave him an order to be telegraphed to Denver for a duplicate supply which Doolin was to bring out later in the summer, if needed.
The unloading of the aeroplane was a joy to Roy. As each box and crate was eased from the wagon by twice as many hands as were necessary, it was checked off in the little red book. Nor was a single box opened until every item was accounted for. Then the precise and careful young manager went to the further extreme of arranging each lot in proper numerical order.
All the crates and boxes were fastened with screws. There was no knocking and banging of nailed boards. The spruce section posts, struts and connecting strips came first. As these aluminum-covered, exactly finished parts came out of their protecting canvas covers, it was no longer possible to restrain the curious plainsmen. With a tinkle of sounding spurs, there was a concerted rush, and Roy had to appease the crowd by holding up a couple of long, slender strips.
“That’s it, gentlemen,” he said, laughing. “That’s part of the airship. This afternoon we’ll join ’em. Now, let’s all go and eat.”
“Would you believe it?” asked Mr. Cook, as the crowd good-naturedly took its leave and Roy and his friends made ready for the noonday meal. “But the boys are sort o’ hungry for something besides faro and whisky. I’m glad it amuses ’em.”