“All right,” exclaimed Bud, in a businesslike way, “now, you go ahead, and I’m off for town for the timber and the men we need. You can’t do much single handed, of course, but do what you can. I’ll be back before midnight. Then we’ll get down to business.”
The boy had no vehicle to carry him the two miles to Scottsville, so he walked. The night was dark, and almost starless, and the pike or road was soft with heavy dust; but, with his coat on his arm, Bud struck out with the stride of a Weston. Covered with dust and perspiration, in about half an hour, he reached the edge of the town. Entering the first open place he found, a sort of neighborhood grocery, he called up Mr. Elder by telephone.
It required some minutes to fully explain the situation, but finally he convinced the fair official that the things he suggested were absolutely necessary and must be done at once. As a result, by the time Bud reached the town public square, Mr. Elder was waiting for him in the office of the hotel.
The usual “fair week” theatrical entertainment was in progress in the town “opera-house,” fakers were orating beneath their street torches, and the square was alive with Scottsville citizens and those already arrived for the fair. It was not difficult for President Elder to start things moving. Within a half hour he had found, and for extra pay, arranged for two carpenters and an engineer to report at the fair-grounds at once.
The securing of the lumber was not so easy and called for some persistent telephoning. Finally an employe of the “Hoosier Sash, Door and Blind Co.” was found, and he in turn secured a teamster. At ten-thirty o’clock, Bud was in the lumber yard selecting the needed material with the aid of a smoky lantern, and before eleven o’clock the one-horse wagon was on its way to the fair-grounds. The two carpenters reached the airship shed about eleven-thirty in a spring wagon with their tools, and a little after twelve o’clock the engineer arrived on foot with a hammer, a wrench and a punch in his pocket.
Before work really began, Bud startled Pennington with a cheery question.
“Say, Lafe, I’m hungry as a chicken, and I’ve only got a dime. Got any money?”
Lafe was not celebrated for generosity.
“I don’t see what good money’ll do out here. There’s no place to buy stuff. And it’s midnight anyway.”
“If you’ll produce, I’ll get something to eat,” said Bud with a grin.