“That’s nothing,” remarked Roy. “If you’d open up that outfit in the streets of New York or Chicago, the people’d tramp each other to death to get a sight of it. Everybody’s crazy about airships. And I’ve got it bad,” he concluded, laughing.
Mr. Cook took the entire “aeroplane crew” to his own house, having previously sent word to his cook. He was a bachelor, but he was not “roughing it” in his home life. A Jap cook gave them a meal without a single Mexican dish—native beef and excellent bread and a pie made with “canned” peaches.
Then came the real work on the aeroplane. By sundown the two sections across which the planes extended, one behind the other, had been put together, bolted, and wired. Beneath these, the long and delicate but stout landing and starting skids had been attached. In a moment of rest Roy explained to Mr. Cook a detail that Mr. Atkinson and his father had taken the liberty to add to the ordinary aeroplane such as the Development Company had bought.
Model No. 1 was planned to start, practically, from the ground without track or wheels. But this presupposed ideal conditions—a smooth surface and the assistance of attendants. Realizing that the aeroplane would often face far from ideal conditions in both starting and landing and that it would be mainly where there would be no one to assist in either starting or landing, Roy’s father had sent with the airship a set of starting wheels. Four of these, small pneumatic-tired rubber wheels, were arranged for automatic attachment to the ends of each skid. They were light and, when not needed, could be easily detached.
“I’ll take ’em with me,” said Roy, “but I’ll not need ’em in starting from this place. These boys,” and he looked toward the still patiently waiting and curious spectators, “could pitch me over the San Juan.”
To the rear of the sections, the big white semi-circular rudder had also been attached—although the taut stretching of the silk cover of this had been a tedious job—and the rudder control wires were in place. When work concluded that evening, the aeroplane was far from assembled.
Mr. Cook laughed.
“I thought the company advertised that this airship could be taken apart in two hours,” he said.
“It does,” answered Roy, “and it can. But you can’t put it together in two hours. However, it wouldn’t take so long if we hadn’t taken everything apart. Usually the long planes are left in wide sections. I wanted to be sure, so I took everything apart.”
“Good for you,” exclaimed Mr. Cook; “but I’m glad you’re here to get it together again. How long will it take to finish the job to-morrow?”