Airship Andy; Or, The Luck of a Brave Boy Read online

  Produced by Roger Frank, Juliet Sutherland and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  THE RACING STAR PASSED TWO OF THE CONTESTANTS (Page 172)]

  Airship Andy

  Or

  The Luck of a Brave Boy

  BY

  Frank V. Webster

  AUTHOR OF "ONLY A FARM BOY," "BOB THE CASTAWAY," "COMRADES OF THE SADDLE," "TOM THE TELEPHONE BOY," ETC.

  ILLUSTRATED

  NEW YORK CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY PUBLISHERS

  BOOKS FOR BOYS

  By FRANK V. WEBSTER

  12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.

  ONLY A FARM BOY TOM, THE TELEPHONE BOY THE BOY FROM THE RANCH THE YOUNG TREASURE HUNTER BOB, THE CASTAWAY THE YOUNG FIREMEN OF LAKEVILLE THE NEWSBOY PARTNERS THE BOY PILOT OF THE LAKES TWO BOY GOLD MINERS JACK, THE RUNAWAY COMRADES OF THE SADDLE THE BOYS OF BELLWOOD SCHOOL THE HIGH SCHOOL RIVALS AIRSHIP ANDY BOB CHESTER'S GRIT BEN HARDY'S FLYING MACHINE DICK, THE BANK BOY DARRY, THE LIFE SAVER

  Cupples & Leon Co., Publishers, New York

  Copyright, 1911, by CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY

  AIRSHIP ANDY Printed in U. S. A.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER PAGE I The Young Chauffeur 1 II Breaking Away 11 III Runaway and Rover 21 IV Down the River 30 V Tramping It 38 VI The Sky Rider 48 VII John Parks, Airship King 55 VIII The Aero Field 61 IX The Airship Inventor 67 X Learning To Fly 74 XI Spying on the Enemy 82 XII Traced Down 88 XIII Jiu-jitsu 99 XIV The Old Leather Pocketbook 108 XV Behind the Bars 115 XVI Bail Wanted 124 XVII A True Friend 132 XVIII Out on Bail 138 XIX A Disappointment 145 XX A New Captivity 153 XXI A Friend in Need 161 XXII "Go!" 169 XXIII The Great Race 175 XXIV A Hopeful Clew 183 XXV Good-by to Airship Andy 195

  AIRSHIP ANDY

  CHAPTER I--THE YOUNG CHAUFFEUR

  "Hand over that money, Andy Nelson."

  "Not on this occasion."

  "It isn't yours."

  "Who said it was?"

  "It belongs to the business. If my father was here he'd make you give itup mighty quick. I represent him during his absence, don't I? Come, nofooling; I'll take charge of that cash."

  "You won't, Gus Talbot. The man that lost that money was my customer,and it goes back to him and no one else."

  Gus Talbot was the son of the owner of Talbot's Automobile Garage, atPrinceville. He was a genuine chip off the old block, people said,except that he loafed while his father really worked. In respect toshrewd little business tricks, however, the son stood on a par with thefather. He had just demonstrated this to Andy Nelson, and was trying hisusual tactics of bluff and bluster. These did not work with Andy,however, who was the soul of honor, and the insolent scion of the Talbotfamily now faced his father's hired boy highly offended and decidedlyangry.

  Andy Nelson was a poor lad. He was worse off than that, in fact, for hewas homeless and friendless. He could not remember his parents. He had afaint recollection of knocking about the country until he was ten yearsof age with a man who called himself his half-brother. Then this samerelative placed him in a cheap boarding school where Andy had to workfor a part of his keep. About a year previous to the opening of ourstory, Dexter Nelson appeared at the school and told Andy he would haveto shift entirely for himself.

  He found Andy a place with an old farmer on the outskirts ofPrinceville. Andy was not cut out for hoeing and plowing. He was willingand energetic, however, and the old farmer liked him immensely, for Andysaved his oldest boy from drowning in the creek, and was kind andlovable to the farmer's several little children. But one day the old mantold Andy plainly that he could not reconcile his conscience by spoilinga bright future for him, and explained why.

  "If I was running a wagon-shop, lad," he said enthusiastically, "I'dmake you head foreman. Somehow, you've got machinery born in your blood,I think. The way you've pottered over that old rack of mine, shows howyou like to dabble with tools. The way you fixed up that oldwashing-machine for marm proves that you know your business. Tell you,lad, it's a crying wrong to waste your time on the farm when you've gotthat busy head of yours running over with cogs, and screws, and wheelsand such."

  All this had led to Andy looking around for other employment. The oldfarmer was quite right--Andy's natural field was mechanics. He feltpretty happy the day he was accepted as the hired boy in Seth Talbot'sgarage.

  That position was not secured without a great deal of fuss and bother onthe part of Talbot, however. The latter was a hard task-master. Helooked his prospective apprentice over as he would a new tool he wasbuying. He offered a mere beggarly pittance of wages, barely enough tokeep body and soul together, and "lodgings," as he called it, on abroken-down cot in a dark, cramped lumber-room. Then he insisted on Andygetting somebody to "guarantee" him.

  "I'll have no boy taking advantage of me," he declared; "learning thesecrets of the trade, and bouncing off and leaving me in the lurchwhenever it suits him. No sir-ree. If you come with me, it's a contractfor two years' service, or I don't want you. When I was a boy they'prenticed a lad, and you knew where you could put your finger on him.It ought to be the law now."

  Fortunately, Andy's half-brother happened to pass through the villageabout that time. He "guaranteed" Andy in some manner satisfactory to thegarage proprietor, and Andy went to work at his new employment.

  Talbot had formerly been in the hardware business. He seemed to thinkthat this entitled him to know everything that appertained to iron andsteel. When roller skating became a fad, he had sold out his business,built a big rink, and in a year was stranded high and dry. The bicyclefever caught him next, but he went into it just as everybody else wasgetting out of it. The result was another failure.

  Now he had been in the automobile business for about six months. He hadbought an old ramshackly paint-shop on the main street of the town, andhad fixed it up so that it was quite presentable as a garage.

  There were not many resident owners of automobiles in Princeville. Justat its outskirts, however, along the shore of a pretty lake, were thehomes of some retired city folks. During the vacati
on months a good manypeople having machines summered at the town. Some of them stored theirautomobiles at the garage. Talbot claimed to do expert repairing, and asa good road ran through Princeville he managed to do some business withtransient customers who came along.

  Before he had been in the garage twenty-four hours, Andy was amazed anddisgusted at the clumsy clap-trap repairing work that Talbot did. Hehalf-mended breaks and leaks that would not last till a car reached itsdestination. He put in inferior parts, and on one occasion Andy saw hisemployer substitute an old tire for one almost new.

  Andy tried to remedy all this. He was at home with tools, and inside ofa week he was thoroughly familiar with every part of an automobile. Heinduced Talbot to send to the city for many important little adjuncts toready repairing, and his employer soon realized that he had a treasurein his new assistant.

  He did not, however, manifest it by any exhibition of liberality. Infact, as the days wore on Andy's tasks were piled up mountain high, andTalbot became a merciless tyrant in his bearing. Once when Andy earned adouble fee by getting out of bed at midnight and hauling into town a carstuck in a mud-hole, he promised Andy a raise in salary and a new suitthe next week. This promise, however, Talbot at once proceeded toforget.

  It was Andy who was responsible for nearly doubling the income of hishard task-master. He heard of a big second-hand tourist car in the city,holding some thirty people, and told Talbot about it. The latter boughtit for a song, and every Saturday, and sometimes several days in theweek, the car earned big money taking visitors sight-seeing around thelake or conveying villagers to the woods on picnic parties.

  Later Andy struck a great bargain in two old cars that were offered forsale by a resident who was going to Europe. He influenced Talbot toadvertise these for rent by the day or hour, and the garage began tothrive as a real money-making business.

  This especial morning Andy had arisen as usual at five o'clock. Hecooked his own meals on a little oil-stove in the lumber room behind thegarage, and after a cup of coffee and some broiled ham and bread andbutter, went to work cleaning up three machines that rented space.

  It was a few minutes before six o'clock, and just after the morningtrain from the city had steamed into town and out of it again, when awell-dressed man, carrying a light overcoat over one arm and a satchel,rushed through the open door of the garage.

  "Hey!" he hailed. "They told me at the depot I could hire an automobilehere."

  "Yes, sir," replied Andy promptly.

  "I want to cut across the country and catch the Macon train on theCentral. There's just forty-five minutes to do it in."

  "I can do it in twenty," announced Andy with confidence. "Jump in, sir."

  In less than two minutes they were off, and the young chauffeur provedhis agility and handiness with the machine in so rapid and clever a way,that his fare nodded and smiled his approval as they skimmed the smoothcountry road on a test run.

  Andy made good his promise. It was barely half-past six when, with ahonk-honk! to warn a clumsy teamster ahead of him, he ran the machinealong the side of the depot platform at Macon.

  "How much?" inquired his passenger, leaping out and reaching into hisvest pocket.

  "Our regular rate is two dollars an hour," explained Andy.

  "There's five--never mind the change," interrupted the gentleman. "Andhere's a trifle for yourself for being wide-awake while most people areasleep."

  "Oh, thank you, sir!" exclaimed Andy, overjoyed, but the man disappearedwith a pleasant wave of his hand before the boy could protest againstsuch unusual generosity.

  Andy's eyes glowed with pleasure and his heart warmed up as he stowedthe handsome five-dollar tip into his little purse containing a fewsilver pieces. He had never had so much money all his own at any time inhis life. Once a tourist in settling a day's jaunt with Talbot in Andy'spresence had added a two-dollar bill for his chauffeur, but this Talbothad immediately shoved into his money drawer without even a laterreference to it.

  Andy got back to the garage before seven o'clock. He whistled cheerilyas he made a notation on the book of his fare and the collection,unlocked the desk, put the five dollars in the tin cash box, andrelocked the desk.

  Then he busied himself cleaning up the machine that had just made such asuccessful spin, for the roads were pretty dusty. As he pulled out thecarpet of the tonneau to shake, something fell to the floor.

  It was an old worn flat leather pocketbook. In a flash Andy guessed thathis recent passenger had accidentally dropped it in the car.

  He opened it in some excitement. It had a deep flap on one side. Fromthis protruded the edges of a dozen crisp new banknotes. Andy ran themover quickly.

  "Two hundred dollars!" he exclaimed.

  "What's that?" spoke a sharp, greedy voice at his ear.

  It was Gus Talbot, his employer's son, who had just appeared on thescene. It was pretty early for him, for Gus paraded as the cashier ofhis father's business and stayed around the garage on an average ofabout three hours a day. Most of his time was spent at a villagebilliard room in the company of a bosom chum named Dale Billings.

  Andy was somewhat taken off his balance by the unexpected appearance ofhis employer's son. It was really the shock of recognizing in the faceof the newcomer the manners and avarice that he shared with his father.Almost instinctively Andy put the hand holding the pocketbook behindhim. Then he said simply:

  "I took a quick fare over to Macon to catch a train. He paid me fivedollars. It's in the cash drawer."

  "Oh, it is," drawled out Gus, "and what about all the money I justcaught you counting over?"

  "It's a pocketbook containing two hundred dollars," replied Andyclearly, disdaining the slur and insult in the tones of his low-spiritedchallenger. "It was dropped by the man I just took over in the machine.I've got to return it to him some way. I might get to the station herein time to notify him by telegraph before his train leaves Macon thatI've found the pocketbook."

  "Hold on," ordered Gus Talbot. "Hand over that money, Andy Nelson."

  And then followed the conversation that opens this chapter, and Andy hadbarely announced that the pocketbook would go back to its owner and tono one else, when Gus made a jump at him.

  "Give up that money, I say!" he yelled, and his big, eager fist clutchedthe pocketbook.