The Bird boys

by John Luther Langworthy

No word had ever come back, and it was of course fully believed that the daring navigator of the upper currents had perished at sea, or in the wilds of that tropical country to the south.

So Andy found himself left in charge of a jolly old gentleman named Colonel Josiah Whympers, mentioned in the will as his guardian. There was ample money in the estate, and every month Andy received many times more than any lad in all Bloomsbury. But he had no bad habits, and spent his money for good purposes; much of it going toward building a monoplane, which he and Frank expected to utilize in taking little flights around the vicinity.

So far as Andy was concerned, he certainly came by his great love for aviation honestly; since his father had been infatuated with the science of flying.

“Besides,” Andy was accustomed to remarking, when any one challenged his wisdom in choosing such a dangerous calling; “A Bird ought to take to the air just as naturally as a duck does to water. My father had to give in to the call of the upper wild; and I just guess I’ve inherited the longing to soar through the clouds from him.”

Andy was a merry lad, with twinkling blue eyes, and full of the joy of living. His cousin Frank happened to be more serious-minded as a rule; and so they made a most congenial pair of chums, who were yet to have their first quarrel.

Colonel Josiah was supposed to be a rather gruff old party; but that was pretty much a blind; for at heart he was the most amiable gentleman within twenty miles of the home town. Andy could just wind him around his little finger. Having become a cripple some years back, the colonel could no longer roam the world, looking on strange sights, as had been his custom all his life. Consequently, he had to take his enjoyment in reading of the exploits of others, and in encouraging the boys of Bloomsbury to become athletes.

At many a hotly contested baseball game the old traveler could be seen waving his crutch and his cane in the air as he rooted loyally for the home team. And when he learned how Andy aspired to follow in the footsteps of his gifted father, with a sturdy intention to conquer the problems of aviation, instead of throwing obstacles in the way, the old man actually applauded his choice, and offered to assist by any reasonable means in his power.

For more than two months now the Bird boys had been industriously at work upon a model of a monoplane fashioned very much after the style of the Bleriot which they had seen do wonderful stunts on the day they traveled down to the trying-out grounds on Long Island.

A great advance had been made in securing a new Kinkaid engine, said to be three times as light as the best hitherto made. Both boys anticipated great things when they had completed their task. Several times they had undone certain parts of the work, to go about it another way that promised better results. And now they only waited for the cylinder which had been sent for, to get their little machine into practical use.

It was far from being a toy. Both boys had gone deeply into the subject. They talked of little else, read everything that came their way, consulted every authority attainable, experimented, and planned their way carefully.