"Well, Mr. Larabee, we are almost ready for a flight."
"Humph! It's about time. I've sunk almost enough money in that shebang to dig a gold mine, and I haven't got any out yet—not a cent, and I'm losing interest all the while."
"Well, but think of the twenty thousand dollars!"
"Yes, I s'pose I've got to. That's the only consolation I have left."
The above conversation took place one afternoon between Ezra Larabee and Lieutenant Larson. The airship with the mercury stabilizers was nearly completed. But a few touches remained to be put on her, to make her, according to Larson, ready for the flight across the continent.
"I presume you will go with me when me make the first ascent; will you not?" the lieutenant inquired.
"Who, me? No, I don't reckon I'll go up first," said Uncle Ezra slowly. "I'll wait until I see if you don't break your neck. If you don't I'll take a chance."
"That's consoling," was the answer, with a grim laugh. "But I am not afraid. I know the craft will fly. You will not regret having commissioned me to build her."
"Wa'al, I should hope not," said Uncle Ezra, dryly. "So far I've put eight thousand, four hundred thirty-two dollars and sixteen cents into this shebang, and I ain't got a penny out yet. It just seems to chaw up money."
"They all do," said the lieutenant. "It is a costly sport. But think of the twenty-thousand-dollar prize!"
"I do," said Uncle Ezra, softly. "That's all that keeps me from thinking what a plumb idiot I've been—thinking of that twenty thousand dollars."
"Oh, you'll get it!" the lieutenant asserted.
"Maybe—yes. If my nephew doesn't get ahead of me," was the grim reply.
"Oh, he never will. We'll win that prize," the lieutenant assured him. "Now there's one other little matter I must speak of. I need some more money."
"More money! Good land, man! I gave you three dollars and a half last week to buy something!" cried Uncle Ezra.
"Yes, I know, but that went for guy wires and bolts. I need about ten dollars for an auxiliary steering wheel."
"A steering wheel?" questioned Uncle Ezra. "You mean a wheel to twist?"
"That's it. There must be two. We have only one."
"Well, if it's only a wheel, I can fix you up about that all right, and without spending a cent, either!" exclaimed the stingy old man with a chuckle. "There's an old sewing machine of my wife's down cellar. It's busted, all but the big wheel. We had an accident with it, but I made the company give me a new machine, and I kept the old one.
"Now that's got a big, round, iron wheel on it, and we can take that off, just as well as not, and use it on the airship. That's what you've got to do in this world—save money. I've spent a terrible pile, but we'll save some by using the sewing machine wheel."
"It won't do," said the lieutenant. "It's far too heavy. I must have one made to order of wood. It will cost ten dollars."
"Oh, dear!" groaned Uncle Ezra. "More money," and he looked distressed. Then his face brightened.
"I say!" he cried. "There's a busted mowing machine out in the barn. That's got a wooden wheel on it. Can't you use that?"
Lieutenant Larson shook his bead.
"It's no use trying to use make-shift wheels if we are to have a perfect machine, and win the prize," he said. "I must have the proper one. I need ten dollars."
"Oh, dear!" moaned Uncle Ezra, as he took out his wallet, and carefully counted out ten one-dollar bills.
"Couldn't you look around and get a second-hand one?" he asked hopefully.
"No; we haven't time. We must soon start on the prize trip. We don't want to be late."
"No, I s'pose not. Wa'al, take the money," and he parted with it, after a long look. Then he made a memoranda of it in his pocket cash-book, and sighed again.
Several times after this Lieutenant Larson had to have more money—or, at least, he said he needed it, and Uncle Ezra brought it forth with many sighs and groans. But he "gave up."
To give Larson credit, he had really produced a good aircraft. Of course it was nothing like Dick's, and, after all, the former army man was more interested in his stabilizers than he was in the airship itself. But he had to build it right and properly to give his patent a good test, and he used his best ideas on the subject.
In general Uncle Ezra's machine was a biplane, a little larger than usual, and with a sort of auxiliary cabin and platform where one could rest when not in the seats. Three passengers could be carried, together with some food and supplies of gasolene and oil. It was an airship built for quick, continuous flight, and it really had a chance for the prize; perhaps not as good a chance as had Dick's, but a good chance compared with others in its class. The one weak point, and this Lieutenant Larson kept to himself, was the fact that it was only with the best of luck that the flight could be made with but two landings.
Finally the former army man announced that the craft was ready for a flight. He had spent all the money Uncle Ezra would give him—nearly ten thousand dollars—and I suspect that Larson himself had lined his own pockets well.
"She's ready," he announced to Uncle Ezra, one day.
"Well, take her up."
"Will you come?"
"Not till I see how you fare. Go ahead."
"Ezra, be you goin' up in that contraption?" asked Aunt Samantha, as she came out in the meadow where a starting ground had been laid out.
"I'm aiming to, if he comes back alive with it," Uncle Ezra made answer, grimly.
"Well, as I said before, it's flyin' in the face of Providence," declared Mrs. Larabee. "I might as well order my mourning now, and be done with it."
"Oh, I ain't aiming to be killed," chuckled Uncle Ezra. "I guess it's safe enough. I've got to get my money back out of this thing."
Lieutenant Larson, with one of the helpers, made the first flight. He did not go very high, so that Uncle Ezra would have confidence. When he came back to the starting point he asked:
"Well, will you take a chance?"
"I—I guess so," replied Mr. Larabee, and his voice was not very steady.
"I'm goin' in the house," announced Mrs. Larabee. "I don't want to see it!"
Uncle Ezra took his place.
"I've got accident insurance in case anything happens," he said, slowly.
"I don't believe your policy covers airship flights," the lieutenant returned.
"Then let me out!" cried Uncle Ezra. "I'll have the policy changed! I'm not going to take any such chances!"
"It's too late!" cried Larson. "Here we go!" The engine was thundering away, and a moment later the craft shot over the ground and into the air. Uncle Ezra was flying at last.
All books are sourced from Project Gutenberg