“Frank, that’s just like you for all the world; always wanting to do somebody a good turn. Now, that wouldn’t have struck me at all; but since you’ve mentioned it, I’m going to watch my chance to get talking about home and all such things, and see if I can’t wake Joe up. He’s a good-hearted fellow, if he is tough. But by the way you’re getting back to your old self, I think the chances look good for our making that start tomorrow in the biplane.”
“It does look that way, if nothing happens between now and then to break up our plans,” replied the other. “Doctor Witherspoon has certainly knocked that dizziness out of my system, and I’m as well as ever now. Fact is, there’s a little job connected with the motor that ought to be attended to, to put it in first-class condition, and when the sun gets lower down, so that a fellow can breathe better, why I think I’ll get busy.”
“And me to help you,” chirped Andy, promptly, “I’m about done with this printing business anyway. Say, what d’ye think of this lot of pictures? Don’t it give you a cold chill just to look at that old grizzly scattering things around at the mouth of his den? And every time I glimpse Buckskin hanging on to that log bridge with his fingers and teeth, trying to climb back again after losing his balance, it makes me shake all over, I want to laugh so hard. A pretty good lot all told, Frank.”
“That’s what they are; Andy, and the folks at home will have a fine time looking them over. You’ll be able to illustrate nearly every big yarn you have to tell; and the round-up tomorrow ought to just fill out the bill. But I can make use of you, if you care to come over with me to the hangar. An air has started up, you notice, and it doesn’t feel quite so hot,” and accompanied by his cousin, after Andy had put his prints and trays away in the house, Frank sauntered leisurely over to where stood the new shed, which had been built to shelter the precious aeroplane wonder.
CHAPTER XVI—AN ALARMING DISCOVERY
Long before evening came on Frank had completed his work, and pronounced the aeroplane in as near perfect condition as it could be placed.
Andy had some more prints to worry over after supper, but it was a labor of love with him, and he never wearied of it. There was such a fascination about seeing the many well remembered scenes flash up before him, after he had dropped the paper in the tray holding his developing solution, and then carefully manipulating them so as to bring out the best possible results, that Frank declared he would have to drag him to bed later on.
They spent a very pleasant evening. Mrs. Ogden played the piano, and Frank was able to do some little execution with the violin which Mr. Witherspoon himself could manipulate so cleverly. Andy thumped on a banjo, and even sang a few college songs, such as the boys of Bloomsbury High delighted to learn in anticipation of the time when they would go away to Yale, Harvard, Cornell, or possibly Princeton, according to the mood that influenced them in making a choice. When Charley Woo was discovered by little Becky crouching in the doorway and evidently enjoying the music, he was induced to bring a native Chinese instrument, fashioned after the manner of a mandolin from which he managed to extract some weird kind of music almost barbaric in its way, which added more or less to the enjoyment of the evening, and made the player superlatively happy.
As the door of the room where Alkali Joe lay upon his bed was kept open, so that he could enjoy the music, they heard him clapping his hands for some time after each air.
Purposely Frank influenced Mrs. Ogden to sing “Home, Sweet Home,” with himself and Andy coming in on the chorus, as well as the sweet, bird-like tones of little Becky’s voice. She gave promise of quite some talent in the line of music, and would carol half the day in her childish way.