The Banner Boy Scouts in the Air
George A. Warren
George A. Warren
The Banner Boy Scouts in the Air
CHAPTER I
At the Airport
Paul and Jack were dashing along on their bicycles through Main Street. It was a clear, beautiful summer day. School was over and they grasped the first opportunity to run over to the airport about a mile outside of Stanhope and which had only recently been completed.
The two boys wore their Scout uniforms and they pedalled along swiftly. Several townspeople paused to watch them pass by and wondered what might be the cause of their haste. Paul stuck his left hand out and they turned right into Oliver Street, thus taking a short cut to the highway and then to the aerodrome. When they arrived at their objective, they dismounted and stood around, taking everything in with their eyes.
The flying field was about a mile long and half a mile wide and entirely cleared of trees, bushes or anything that might be an obstruction. To one side were a group of sheds and a building, evidently the office. At about the middle of the field there was a solitary monoplane.
Jack gasped. Finally he remarked, “Gee, isn’t this grand?”
Paul nodded. He was as much overcome with the wonder of it as his chum. “Boy!” he exclaimed, “it sure is.”
Jack said, “Let’s walk over to the buildings.”
His chum nodded. “Sure, let’s go.”
Pushing their bicycles along side of them, they walked across the field. They could barely contain themselves with wonder, joy and astonishment, which was the cause of their lack of speech. For the past weeks they had been so excited by the news of the flying field being completed that they found it difficult to control themselves enough to go on with their school work. And it wasn’t only Jack and Paul, but all their chums had suddenly become interested in aeronautics. They began to boast of their ambition to become pilots, fly all over the world and enjoy all sorts of adventurous experiences. At times, instead of studying their biology lessons or French, they would be reading thrilling air stories or books on flying.
As the two boys approached the office building, a man emerged and waved to them. They waved back. Paul whispered, “I’ll bet it’s Major McCarthy, the manager.”
Paul was right. The Major was a tall, stocky man of about forty and almost bald. He smiled to them and said, “Hello fellows. I’m Major McCarthy. Is there anything I can do for you?”
Jack said, “We came over to look around, if you have no objections, Major.”
The Major smiled warmly. “Oh, none whatsoever. You’re welcome.”
Paul said, “My name is Paul—Paul Morrison.”
“And your dad is Dr. Morrison?”
“That’s right. How did you know?”
“Well, there’s only one Dr. Morrison in Stanhope. Glad to meet you, Paul.”
The two shook hands. Jack said, “I’m Jack Stormways.”
“Glad to know you,” the major said and they shook hands.
For a few seconds there ensued an embarrassed silence. Neither Jack nor Paul could think of anything to say and Major McCarthy was waiting for them to ask questions. Finally the major said, “Suppose you boys lean your bicycles against the wall and I’ll show you around. There isn’t much doing now and I have some time on my hands.”
Paul cried, “I think that’s swell of you.”
And Jack added, “Thanks a lot.”
The boys quickly leaned their wheels against the wall and then joined the major, one on either side of him. The major said, “I might as well begin by telling you something about the field. You’ll notice that the field is cleared of all obstructions. That’s absolutely necessary to make sure there is nothing to cause an accident in taking off or landing. The field is about a mile long. That’s to provide plenty of room for taking off or landing.”
Jack interrupted. “How much of a run does it take to land or take off?”
Paul nodded, implying that he too was interested in the question. Major McCarthy answered, “It all depends. A light ship can take off in about a hundred yards or less. A big shi