The Bird Boys' Aeroplane Wonder Or Young Aviators on a Cattle Ranch by Langworthy - HTML preview

CHAPTER XXIII—HOME AGAIN—CONCLUSION

Frank knew that they had better not loiter there. Still, he could not see Jose losing blood like that, when it was so easy to stop the flow.

So, while Andy watched to see that none of the frightened Indians got over their scare, and came sneaking back, bent on potting some of the palefaces, Frank made a quick job of looking after the wounded arm of the Mexican.

The man seemed to hardly know what to make of it all. He watched every move of the amateur doctor as though he could not understand how any one would be so generous toward an enemy. But Frank knew what he was doing, and he meant to extract a promise from Jose, before they left him, that never again would he dream of trying to do any injury toward either little Becky or Mr. Witherspoon, her relative, and legally appointed guardian. And he believed the man would keep such a promise faithfully too; for Frank was a pretty good reader of human nature.

Then they all walked toward the aeroplane that lay there on the hot sand as a camel of the desert might for its Arab owner, prostrate for his mounting.

It was easy enough to fasten little Becky in; but with the man there had to be some maneuvering, because a sudden movement on his part would endanger them all. Jose drew a long breath as he took his seat, and held grimly onto an upright with his one well hand, his rifle strapped to his back meanwhile. It was as though he hardly expected to ever come safely down again; but then he had carefully counted the cost, and having decided his pride would not allow him to back out.

Frank knew that it would be a very difficult task to get the biplane to travel over the sand at a rate of speed sufficient to allow of their mounting when the proper moment came; but he had experimented so many times, looking to some such contingency, that he believed he could surmount every trouble.

He therefore moved the aeroplane with the help of the others, so that he would have the assistance of the slight wind that was blowing.

Finally all was ready.

The motor began to hum, gradually increasing its note as Frank turned on more power, on finding that his hopes were about to be fulfilled. Yes, they were actually passing along over the sand now; for just there it was packed more than in most places. Andy had held his breath with the suspense, figuring on how he could climb back if he had to go overboard to help push. But it was all right now, and such a move would not be necessary.

When the final moment arrived, they started gradually upward. Frank heard Jose gasp for breath, and he knew the Mexican must be saying his prayers from the low mumble that drifted in at his ear; doubtless the man was almost stiff with fright when he dared look down, and saw that he was apparently as far above the surface of the desert as many mountain peaks would be.

Frank knew what he was doing, and that if the man was left on the desert in his present wounded and weakened condition, it was just the same as giving him over to death, which might come in any one of several ways. If the Indians did not get him he might starve or die from lack of water; and then again, should the infuriated cow puncher band from the Double X Ranch come upon Jose he might count on a short shrift and a rope.

After all was said and done, fortune had been so kind that no irreparable damage had followed the bold raid of Jose, unless indeed poor old Tige had received a dose of poison as the boys had feared. Little Becky seemed to have come through it all in very good shape, and for these mercies Frank felt that they had great reason to be thankful.

And that was mainly why he was now carrying Jose across the balance of the desert to place him on the road to the near-by border, beyond which he undoubtedly had friends who would take care of him.

Andy had not forgotten the Indians, and was constantly on the lookout for any signs of them. Whenever he did sight a skulking figure Andy made haste to squeeze the rubber that caused the siren to give tongue. Jose nearly lost his hold the first time he heard that fierce whoop so close to his ear; for of course in his nervous condition he thought that something had burst, and that they were now bound to go tumbling down through all that space to be splashed about below.

But that lasted for only a very brief time, since they speedily reached a point far beyond where any of the fleeing Indians had gone. After that it was plain sailing and they made rapid speed.

Then, after they had covered many miles in this fashion, with the glasses Andy was able to make out trees ahead, and some sort of ridge that doubtless marked the delimitation of the desert’s border.

Nearer and nearer they drew. Jose began to actually consider that he still had something of a chance to live through it all; though the balance of his life he would certainly never be apt to forget what dreadful fears had held him gripped fast in their power when up in a fast-flying aeroplane.

Now the keen-eyed pilot was looking for a likely place to land, and this he discovered close to the trees themselves, where the ground became much firmer, and Jose could immediately get under shelter from the broiling sun.

After coming down from that cool altitude the tremendous heat of the desert was almost overpowering, and both boys were glad to know that they did not have to continue on through it for any great length of time.

So Jose was finally landed. He seemed to be rejoiced to find himself once more on solid ground. True, he would always boast of having been up almost to the clouds, but it is unlikely that any ordinary attraction could tempt him to try it again.

He shook hands with each of the boys when they were ready to once more venture into unknown space with the aeroplane. Andy was a little dubious about accepting that hand, which he felt pretty sure had not always been free from crime; but then Frank had done it, and he felt that he could not do better than imitate his cousin in such matters.

They had no particular trouble about the new launching; indeed, now that the biplane was free from the weight of Jose, it seemed to mount upward like a bird that has broken loose from its cage.

The last they saw of the Mexican he was waving a hand after them. And Frank felt well satisfied with the morning’s work. He believed that not only had they succeeded in rescuing the little girl, but that fortune had allowed them to give a bad man a chance to open his eyes. It might be the means of turning Jose Sandero from his evil ways; and then again the incident was liable to be swallowed up by the demands of his hard life. And probably they would never know.

Once again they were flying boldly across the wide stretch of desert, with its lonely looking cactus plants, and its queer windrows of sand that looked for all the world as though a giant comb had been drawn over the land, leaving it in this peculiar condition. When, finally, they reached the northern end of the desert, and headed direct for the ranch house, possibly both of the Bird boys were feeling happier that ever before in all their lives. They had accomplished what seemed next door to a miracle, because, had the men in “chaps” chased after Jose, and threatened to take him, there could be no telling what the desperate Mexican might not have done rather than submit.

“Look there, Frank,” Andy was saying a little later, “you can see the ranch house as plain as anything from here, and why, if that ain’t the boys coming on the tear over yonder!”

Frank, looking, saw that his chum spoke the truth. There could be seen a confused medley of boys and horses. They were whipping their mounts madly, and using both hats and quirts to try and increase their speed.

“That must be Charley Woo among the front ones,” Frank remarked, after he had taken a second good look.

“Yes, you can tell him miles off by his white clothes,” Andy went on to say, “and he’s done himself proud, has Charley, this day. Uncle must be there alongside, and asking more questions, as he tried to get a little more speed out of his mount. And I reckon they’ve glimpsed us, Frank, by the way they act. Are we going to land and let them see that Little Sunbeam is safe with us?”

“It would be cruelty to animals not to,” replied the pilot, as he started to head gradually toward the earth.

Ten minutes later, and they were surrounded by an eager, excited throng, and when Buckskin, Shorty, and all that lot learned that little Becky had not suffered to any serious extent as a result of her terribly long and wearisome ride, bound on a pony as she had been, they “awoke all creation,” as Andy declared, with their exultant whoops.

Nothing would do but that the boys must tell the whole story; and those wild riders fairly held their breath as they listened to the modest account of that most remarkable dash through space, to arrive just in the nick of time—Frank called it the psychological moment, and then had to stop and explain just what he meant by that, before they would let him proceed.

It was the greatest story they had ever heard. They would never have believed such a thing possible, only that they knew Frank and Andy never told yarns, or even stretched a fish story. Besides, there was little Becky ready to corroborate all that had been said. Mr. Witherspoon insisted upon taking the child on his horse, and thus heading for the ranch, while the boys continued their flight; of course they would arrive at their destination an hour before the ponies could make it, and thus relieve the minds of those who were there.

The round-up was all off for the present. Later on they could make another start, and this time the boys would be along, to witness all that was done, with Andy taking pictures of the various phases of the operation, as long as his roll of films lasted.

But Mr. Witherspoon had learned a lesson, and never again would he leave home without a sufficient guard remaining there at the ranch house to handle any situation that might arise.

He took some of Frank’s philosophy, to the effect that he would always after that be prepared for possibilities, since lightning can at times apparently strike out of a clear sky.

The boys’ time on the ranch was now getting toward a close; but before they left they had one pleasant surprise that made them feel happy. It was just on the little maid’s sixth birthday that a tired Mexican came to the place and asked to see Mr. Witherspoon.

It happened that both boys were with him, and remembering their recent adventure in connection with one such greaser, they eyed the dusty traveler with more or less curiosity. He handed Mr. Witherspoon a packet which he said his master, who was a ranchero down in Chihuahua, Mexico, had ordered him to get there before dark on this particular day.

Opening the packet the ranchman disclosed some beautiful silken garments such as would be apt to set a little girl wild with delight, and also a lovely slender gold necklace with pearls as its ornaments.

When he had glanced at the paper that had come with this gift Mr. Witherspoon smiled, and looked meaningly at the boys.

“Well, all I can say is, that you two boys are next door to wizards. You’ve actually made an impression on a heart that I calculated was as hard as flint. Here are some presents for our little girl,” and on the paper I read in Spanish: “To the little Senorita Rebecca from her unworthy father, on her sixth birthday. May the good God bless her.”

And neither of the boys so much as smiled, for they felt that in some fashion that merciful act of Frank’s in treating Jose Sandero so generously had borne such fruit as no one would ever have believed possible.

When the time came for them to say goodbye to Uncle Jethro and the jolly boys on the Double X Ranch, it was hard to do it. And neither Frank nor Andy would ever forget the rousing cheers that burst from the lips of those happy-go-lucky punchers, Buckskin, Waldo Kline, Shorty, Alkali Joe and the rest, not forgetting even Charley Woo, when they saw the last of them at the station.

Of course Frank and Andy reached their home town in safety, and in due time the biplane once more rested in its accustomed hangar back of Frank Bird’s home; with the first snow of winter covering the ground, and a frosty tang in the air that was just the opposite of that torrid wave the Bird boys struck when crossing the Arizona desert.

And it is to be hoped that we will have the pleasure of recounting further thrilling adventures that befell these intrepid air pilots in other volumes to succeed this. Meanwhile, having seen them safely through experiences at the cattle ranch, and once more back home before the delayed session of school opened, it only remains for us to say goodbye to the reader and write—

THE END.