The Girl Aviators\' Motor Butterfly - Margaret Burnham
[Illustration: "What are you doing to this child?" demanded Roy
indignantly.]
THE GIRL AVIATORS' MOTOR BUTTERFLY
BY MARGARET BURNHAM
1912
AUTHOR OF "THE GIRL AVIATORS AND THE PHANTOM AIRSHIP," "THE GIRL
AVIATORS ON GOLDEN WINGS," "THE GIRL AVIATORS' SKY CRUISE," ETC.
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY CHARLES L. WRENN_
CONTENTS
I. Preparations and Plans.
II. Off on the Flight.
III. Little Wren and the Gipsies.
IV. The Approach of the Storm.
V. Peggy's Thoughtfulness Saves the Farm.
VI. The Girl Aviators in Deadly Peril.
VII. A Stop for the Night.
VIII. Roy Makes an Enemy.
IX. Jimsy Falls Asleep.
X. Peggy's Intuition.
XI. A Mean Revenge!
XII. The Finding of the "Butterfly"
XIII. Prisoners in the Hut.
XIV. What's To Be Done with The Wren?
XV. A Rambunctious Ram.
XVI. An Invitation to Race.
XVII. The Twisted Spark Plug.
XVIII. In Search of a New Plug.
XIX. The Trap.
XX. An Attack in the Air.
XXI. Peggy's Splendid Race.
XXII. Peggy's Generosity.
XXIII. The Moonshiners and the Aeroplane.
XXIV. Mr. Parker's Story.
XXV. The Wren Disappears.
XXVI. Captured by Gipsies.
XXVII. Deliverance.
The Girl Aviators' Motor Butterfly
CHAPTER I.
PREPARATIONS AND PLANS.
"It will be another 'sky cruise,' longer and daintier and lovelier!"
exclaimed Jess Bancroft, clapping her hands. "Peggy, you're nothing
if not original."
"Well, there are automobile tours and sailing trips, and driving
parties--" "And railroad journeys and mountain tramps--" interrupted
Jess, laughing.
"Yes, and there are wonderful, long-distance migrations of birds, so
why not a cross-country flight of motor butterflies?"
"It would be splendid fun," agreed Jess eagerly; "we could take the
_Golden Butterfly_ and the _Red Dragon_ and----" "Don't forget that
Bess Marshall has a small monoplane, too, now. I guess she would go
in with us."
"Not a doubt of it. Let's go and find the boys and see what they say
to it."
"No need to go after them, here they come now."
As the golden-haired Peggy spoke, two good-looking youths came round the
corner of the old-fashioned house at Sandy Bay, Long Island, where the
two young Prescotts made their home with their maiden aunt, Miss Sally
Prescott. One of the lads was Roy Prescott, Peggy's brother, and the
other was Jimsy Bancroft.
"Well, girls, what's up now?" inquired Roy, as both girls sprang to
their feet, their faces flushed and eyes shining.
"Oh, nothing particular," rejoined Peggy, with assumed indifference,
"except that we've just solved the problem of what to do with the
rest of the summer."
"And what's that,--lie in hammocks and indulge in ice-cream sodas and
chocolates?" asked Jimsy mockingly.
"No, indeed, you impertinent person; the young lady of the twentieth
century has left all that far behind her," was Jess's Parthian shot,
"for proof I refer you to our adventures on the Great Alkali."
"Hello! what's this?" asked Roy, holding up a dainty cardboard box,
and giving vent to a mischievous smile.
"Chocolates!" cried Jimsy.
"It _was_ chocolates," corrected Peggy reproachfully.
"And yet shall be," declared Jimsy, producing from some mysterious
place in a long auto coat another box, beribboned and decorated like
the first.
"Jimsy, you're an angel!" cried both girls at once.
"So I've been told before," responded the imperturbable Jimsy, "but
I never really believed it till now."
Peggy rewarded him for the compliment by popping a chocolate into his
mouth.
Gravely munching it, Jimsy proceeded to interrogation.
"And how did you solve the problem of what to do with the rest of the
summer?" he asked.
For answer Peggy pointed to the sky, a delicate blue dome flecked with
tiny cloudlets like cherub's wings.
"By circling way up yonder in the cloudfields," she laughed.
"But that's no novelty," objected Roy, "we've been up 5,000 feet
already, and----" "But we're talking about a tour through cloudland,"
burst out Jess, unable to retain the secret any longer, "a sort of
Cook's tour above the earth."
"Wow!" gasped both boys. "There's nothing slow," added Roy, "in that
or about you two. And, incidentally, just read this letter I got this
morning, or rather I'll read it for you."
So saying Roy produced from his coat a letter closely written in an
old-fashioned handwriting. It was as follows:
"My Dear Niece and Nephew: No doubt you will be surprised to hear from
your Uncle Jack. Possibly you will hardly recall him. This has, in a
great measure, been his own fault as, since your poor father's death,
I have not paid the attention I should to my correspondence.
"This letter, then, is to offer what compensation lies in my power for
my neglect. Having read in the papers of your wonderful flying feats in
Nevada it struck me that you and your young friends might like to pay
me a 'flying trip,' making the excursion via aeroplane.
"We are to have some flying contests in Marysville during the latter
part of the month, and you might care to participate in them. Of course
I expect your Aunt Sallie to accompany you. Hoping sincerely to see you,
I am
"Your affectionate uncle,
"James Parker.
"Marysville, North Carolina."
As Roy concluded the reading the quartet of merry youngsters exchanged
delighted glances. As if by magic here was an objective point descried
for their projected motor flight.
"Well, that's what I call modern magic," declared Jimsy glowingly;
"consider me as having accepted the invitation."
"Accepting likewise for me, of course," said Jess, shaking her black
locks and blinking round, expectant eyes.
"Of course," struck in Peggy affectionately, "the Girl Aviators cannot
be parted."
Just at this moment came a whirring sound from high in the air above
them. Looking up, they saw a dainty green monoplane, with widespread
wings and whirring propeller, descending to earth. An instant later
the machine had come to a halt on the lawn, alighting as lightly as
wind-blown gossamer. In the machine was seated a pretty girl of about
Peggy's age, though rather stouter. In harmony with the color of the
machine she drove, the newly arrived girl aviator wore a green aviation
costume, with a close-fitting motor bonnet. From the beruffled edge of
this some golden strands of hair had escaped, and waved above two
laughing blue eyes.
"Hello, people!" she hailed, as the porch party hastily adjourned and
ran to welcome her, "how's that for a novice only recently out of the
Mineola School?"
"Bess Marshall, you're a wonder!" cried Peggy, embracing her; "the
_Dart_ is the prettiest little machine I've seen for a long time."
"Isn't it a darling," agreed Bess warmly, "but, my! how I had to beg and
pray dad before he would buy it for me. He said that no daughter of his
should ever go up in an aeroplane, much less drive one. It wasn't till I
got him down at Mineola and persuaded him to take a ride himself that he
consented to buying me my dear little _Dart_."
She laid one daintily gloved hand on the steering wheel of the little
monoplane and patted it affectionately.
"It's pretty enough, but it wouldn't fly very far," commented Roy
teasingly, "sort of aerial taxicab, I'd call it."
"Is that so, Mr. Roy Prescott? Well, I'd like you to know that the
_Dart_ could fly just as far and as fast as the _Red Dragon_ or the
_Golden Butterfly_."
"Well, if you wanted to take a trip to North Carolina with us you'd have
an opportunity to test that idea out," laughed Peggy.
"A trip to North Carolina? What do you mean? Are you dreaming?"
"No, not even day-dreaming."
Just then Miss Prescott, her gentle face wreathed in smiles, appeared
at the door.
"Children! children!" she exclaimed, "what is all this? Adjourn your
discussion for a while and come in and have tea."
While the happy group of young fliers are entering the pretty,
old-fashioned house with its clustering roses and green-shuttered
casements, let us relate a little more about the young personages
to whose enthusiastic talk the reader has just listened.
Roy and Peggy Prescott were orphans living in the care of their aunt,
Miss Prescott, the location of whose home on Long Island has already
been described. At school Roy had imbibed the aerial fever, and after
many vicissitudes had built a fine monoplane, the _Golden Butterfly_,
with which he had won a big money prize, besides encountering a series
of extraordinary aerial adventures. In these Peggy participated, and on
more than one occasion was the means of materially aiding her brother
out of difficulties. All this part of their experiences was related in
the first volume of this series, "The Girl Aviators and the Phantom
Airship."
In the second volume, "The Girl Aviators on Golden Wings," a combination
of strange circumstances took our friends out to the Great Alkali of the
Nevada desert. Here intrigues concerning a hidden gold mine provided
much excitement and peril, and the girls proved that, after all, a
fellow's sisters can be splendid companions in fun and hardship. An
exciting race with an express train, and the adventure of the "Human
Coyote," provided stirring times in this story, which also related the
queer antics of Professor Wandering William, an odd character indeed.
Space does not permit to relate their previous adventures in more
detail, but in "The Girl Aviators' Sky Cruise" still other interesting
and unusual experiences are described,--experiences that tested both
themselves and their machines in endurance flights.
Of Roy and Peggy's devoted friends, Jess and Jimsy Bancroft, it is
enough to say that both were children of Mr. Bancroft, a wealthy banker,
who had a palatial summer home near to the Prescotts' less pretentious
dwelling. Since we last met Jess and Jimsy their father had allowed them
to purchase an aeroplane known as the _White Flier_. It was in this
craft that Jimsy and Roy had flown over for mail when they made their
entrance at the beginning of this chapter. Of the letter they found
awaiting them we already know.
Jolly, good-natured Bess Marshall had taken up aviation as a lark. She
was a typical specimen of an American girl. Light-hearted, wholesome and
devoted to all sorts of sports, tennis, swimming, golf, motoring and
finally aviation had, in turn, claimed her attention.
And now, having introduced our heroes and heroines of the sky to those
who have not already met them, we will proceed to see how Miss Prescott
receives the startling plans that her young charges are about to lay
before her.
CHAPTER II.
OFF ON THE FLIGHT.
"But, my dear children, do you realize what such a trip means?"
The gentle-voiced Miss Prescott leaned back in her easy-chair and
gazed at Peggy and Roy with an approach to consternation.
"It means fun, adventure, and--oh, everything!" cried Peggy, clapping
her hands.
"You can't have the heart to refuse us," sighed Jess.
"If it were only the boys it might be different, but two young ladies--"
"Three," corrected Bess.
"Three, then. For three young ladies, supposedly of sound mind, to go
flying across country like, like--" "Butterflies," struck in Jimsy.
"Wait a minute," cried Jess, "there'd have to be four ladies--"
"Of course; a chaperon," breathed Peggy, with a mischievous glance.
Miss Prescott dropped her knitting.
"Peggy Prescott, you mean me?"
"Of course; who else could go?"
"My dear child, do you actually contemplate taking me flying through
the air at my time of life?"
"Why not? It isn't as if you'd never been up," urged Peggy.
"You said you liked it, too," struck in Jess.
"Um--well, I may have said so," admitted Miss Prescott, visibly
weakening from the stand she had taken, and she went on: "I would
like to see James again."
"And here is your opportunity ready to hand, as the advertisements say,"
declared Bess, her blue eyes shining.
"But how could I go?"
The question was an outward and visible sign of capitulation on Miss
Prescott's part.
"Why, I was thinking we could use that big biplane I was building for
Mr. Bell's use out in Nevada," spoke up Roy; "it will seat three, and is
as steady as a church, thanks to that balancing device Jimsy and I
figured out."
"I'd fly my little _Dart_," declared Bess.
"And you and I would take the _Golden Butterfly_," cried Peggy, crossing
to Jessie and placing her arm round the dark-haired girl's neck.
"Jimsy can fly the _Red Dragon_, and that leaves Roy and auntie for the
biplane," she went on, bubbling over with enthusiasm as her plans
matured and took form.
"Goodness gracious, an aerial circus!" cried Miss Prescott. "We would
attract crowds, and that wouldn't be pleasant."
"I was planning to make it a sort of picnic," declared Peggy, who
appeared to have an answer for every objection that could be interposed
to her project.
"What, camp out every night? Well, you are a wonder," exclaimed Jimsy,
"if there's one thing I love it's camping out."
"How long would it take us to get to Marysville?" asked Bess.
"I'll get the atlas," cried Peggy, "but if we have good weather not more
than three or four days."
"I hardly think it would take as long as that," declared Roy, as five
eager heads were bent over the atlas.
"But camping out!" exclaimed Miss Prescott, "think of colds and
rheumatism, not to mention snakes and robbers."
"Tell you what," cried Jimsy suddenly, "what's the matter with Miss
Prescott going along in an automobile? We can map out the route, arrange
our stops and meet every evening at some small town where we won't
attract too much of a crowd."
"Jimsy, I always said you were a genius," cried Peggy.
"Behold the last objection swept away," struck in Bess.
"Surely you can't refuse now?" urged Jess.
"Please say yes," came from them all.
"But--but who would drive the car?" asked Miss Prescott, in the voice of
one who is thinking up a feeble last objection.
"Why, Jake Rickets, of course," declared Roy, referring to the man who
helped the boys in the machine shop in which the aeroplanes for the
desert mines were manufactured.
After this Miss Prescott could make but a poor stand against the united
urgings of five impetuous, enthusiastic young people. The air was filled
with plans of all sorts. Jimsy was for going at once, but it was finally
decided to meet again and set a definite date for a start. In the
meantime there were parents' consents to be obtained, plans laid for the
route to be followed, and various things purchased for the aerial trip.
All this occupied some time, and it was not till a week later that the
last difficulty in connection with the motor flight had been
straightened out and the three aeroplanes stood ready, in Roy's hangar,
for a tour that was to prove eventful in more ways than one.
It was just after dawn on the day of the start that Roy and Jimsy for
the last time went over every nut and bolt on the machines and declared
everything in perfect readiness for the trip. Breakfast was a mere
pretence at a meal; excitement got the better of appetites that morning.
Beside the winged machines sputtering and coughing as if impatient at
the delay, was a large and comfortable red touring car. At the driver's
wheel of this vehicle was seated a small, "under-done"-looking man, in a
chauffeur's uniform of black leather. This was Jake Rickets.
"Well, Jake, we're all ready for a start," announced Roy, at last.
The small man, whose hair was fair, not to say pale, glanced at the
glowing boy with an expression of deep melancholy.
"Yes, if something don't happen," he declared, in tones of deep
pessimism.
"Jake's never happy unless he's foreboding some disaster," explained
Roy to Bess, who happened to be standing by drawing on her gloves.
"It don't never do to be too sure," murmured the melancholy Jake,
"'cos why? Well, you can't most generally always tell."
"Everything ready?" cried Peggy at last, as Miss Prescott got into
the car.
"As ready as it ever will be," merrily called back Bess, who was already
seated in the little green _Dart_.
The chorus of engine pantings and explosions was swelled by the roar of
Roy's big biplane and the rattling exhaust of Jimsy's fierce-looking
_Red Dragon_.
The _Golden Butterfly_, which was equipped with a silencing device, ran
smoothly and silently as a sewing machine. Peggy sat at the wheel, while
Jess reclined on the padded seat placed tandemwise behind her. It made a
wonderful picture, the big white biplane with its boy driver, the
scarlet and silver machine of Jimsy Bancroft and the delicate green and
gold color schemes of the other two flying machines.
"The first stop will be Palenville," announced Roy, "the biplane will be
the pathfinder."
Despite the earliness of the hour and the efforts that had been made to
keep the motor flight a secret, the information of the novel experiment
had, in some way, leaked out. Quite a small crowd gave a loud cheer as
Roy cried:
"Go!"
"We're off!" cried Peggy, athrill with excitement.
Propellers flashed in the sunlight and the next instant the biplane,
after a short run, soared aloft toward a sky of cloudless, clean-swept
blue. In rapid succession the _Dart, Golden Butterfly_ and _Red Dragon_
followed.
"Come on," cried Bess to Jimsy, waving her hand challengingly.
"Ladies first, even off the earth," came back from Jimsy gallantly,
as he skillfully "banked" his machine in an upward spiral.
Then upward and outward soared the gayly colored sky racers, like a
flock of wonderful birds. It was the greatest sight that the crowd left
behind and below had ever witnessed, although one or two shook their
heads and prophesied dire results from young ladies tampering with
them blamed "sky buggies."
But not a thought of this entered the heads of the aerial adventurers.
With sparkling eyes, and bounding pulses they flew steadily southward,
from time to time glancing below at the touring car. Even though they
were flying slowly it was plain that the big auto had hard work to keep
up with them. The unique motor flight was on, and was about to develop
experiences of which none of them at the moment dreamed.
CHAPTER III.
LITTLE WREN AND THE GIPSIES.
They flew on, keeping the motor car beneath them in constant sight till
about noon. Then, from the tonneau of the machine, came the waving of a
red square of silk. This had been agreed upon as a signal to halt for a
brief lunch.
Shouting joyously, the young adventurers of the air began circling their
machines about, dropping closer earthward with every sweep. Beneath them
was a green meadow, bordered on one side by a country road and on the
other by a small brook of clear water and a patch of dark woods. It was
an ideal place to halt for a roadside lunch, and as one after the other
the machines dropped to earth Miss Prescott was warmly congratulated on
her choice of a halting place.
The car was left in the road, and the melancholy Jake Rickets set to
work getting wood for a fire, for it was not to be thought of that Miss
Prescott could go without her cup of tea. In the meantime the girls
spread a cloth and set out their fare. There were dainty chicken
sandwiches with crisp lettuce leaves lurking between the thin white
"wrappers," cold meat and half a dozen other little picnic delicacies,
which all the girls, despite their aerial craze, had not forgotten how
to make.
The boys set up a shout as, returning from attending to the aeroplanes,
they beheld the inviting table.
"This beats camping out by ourselves," declared Roy, "girls, we're glad
we brought you."
"Thank you for the compliment," laughed Jess. "I suppose you mean that
you are glad _we_ brought all this."
She waved her hand at the "spread" dramatically.
"Both," rejoined Jimsy, throwing himself on the grass. By this time
Jake's kettle was bubbling merrily, and soon the refreshing aroma of
Miss Prescott's own particular kind of tea was in the air. The boys
preferred to try the water from the brook, despite Jake's dire hints at
typhoid and other germs holding a convention in it. It was sweet and
cool, and the girls voted it as good as ice-cream soda.
"At any rate as we can't get any we might as well pretend it is,"
declared Bess.
So the meal passed merrily. After it had been concluded, amid gay
chatter and fun, Peggy proposed an excursion to the woods for wild
flowers which grew in great profusion on the opposite side of the
stream. Crossing it by a plank bridge, the young people plunged into the
cool woods, dark and green, and carpeted with flowering shrubs and
vines.
For some time they gathered the blossoms, and were just about to return
to the aeroplanes and resume their journey when Peggy uttered a sudden
sharp exclamation:
"Hark! What's that?" she cried.
They all listened. Again came the sound that had arrested her attention;
a sharp cry, as if some one was in pain or fright.
Then came definite words:
"Don't! Please; don't hit me again!"
"It's a child!" exclaimed Jimsy.
"A girl!" cried Peggy, "some one is ill-treating her."
"We'll soon find out!" cried Roy hotly. It infuriated the boy to think
that a child was being subjected to ill-treatment, and the nature of the
cries left no doubt that such was the case.
"Stand back here, girls, while we see what's up!" struck in Jimsy.
"Indeed we'll do no such thing!" rejoined the plucky Bess, bridling
indignantly.
"At any rate let us go in advance," advised Roy; "we don't know just
what we may run up against."
This appeared reasonable even to Bess, and with the boys slightly in
advance the little group pressed rapidly forward. After traveling about
two hundred yards they found themselves in a small clearing where a most
unusual sight presented itself; a sight that brought a quick flash of
indignation to the face of every one of them.
Cowering under the blows of a tall, swarthy woman was a small girl, so
fragile as to appear almost elfin. The woman wore the garb of a gipsy,
and the presence of some squalid tents and tethered horses showed our
young friends at once that it was a gipsy encampment upon which they
had happened.
The woman was so intent on belaboring the shrieking child that at first
she did not see the newcomers. It was not till Roy stepped up to her,
in fact, that she became aware of their presence.
"What are you doing to this child?" demanded Roy indignantly.
"That's none of your business," was the retort, as the woman for an
instant released her hold on the child.
Instantly the little creature darted to the sheltering arms of Peggy,
sobbing piteously.
"Oh! Save me from her, she will kill me," the child cried, in a broken
voice.
"There! there!" soothed Peggy tenderly, "don't cry. We won't let her
harm you any more."
But like a fury the woman flew at the girls. Before she could lay hands
on them, however, Roy and Jimsy had seized her arms and held them. At
this the crone set up a hideous shriek and, as if it had been a signal,
two swarthy men, with dark skins and big earrings in their ears, came
running from behind the tents.
"What's the trouble?" they cried, as they ran up, regarding the boys
malevolently.
"It's the Wren; they're trying to steal the Wren!" shrilled out the
woman.
At this the men rushed at the boys, one of them waving a thick cudgel
he carried.
"Let go of that woman," they shouted furiously.
Another instant and the boys would have been in a bad position, for both
the gipsies were powerful fellows, and appeared determined to commit
violence. But Roy, releasing his hold of the struggling gipsy woman,
put up his fists in such a scientific manner that, for an instant, the
attack paused. This gave Jimsy time to rush to his side. The instant
she was released the woman darted to the side of the men.
"Beat them! Kill them!" she cried frantically.
The men resumed their rush, and the next moment the boys found
themselves fighting to escape a furious assault. Neither of the lads was
a weakling, and good habits and constant athletic exercise had placed
them in the pink of condition.
But the two gipsies were no mean antagonists. Then, too, the one with
the cudgel wielded it skillfully. Time and again Jimsy avoided a heavy
blow which, if successful, must have injured him seriously. The girls,
screaming, rushed off, carrying "the Wren," as the woman called her,
with them. They dashed at top speed back to the spot where the
aeroplanes had been left, and summoned Jake.
"I knew something would happen," declared that worthy, as he picked up a
monkey wrench, the only weapon at hand, and started off for the woods.
The girls followed him, Miss Prescott not having been vouchsafed
anything but a most hurried explanation of what was going on. Just as
Jake appeared on the scene Jimsy had received a terrific blow on the arm
from one of the gipsy's cudgels. The boy's arm dropped as if paralyzed.
With a howl of triumph the ruffian who had dealt him the blow rushed in
on the injured lad. In another instant it would have looked bad indeed
for Jimsy, but Roy, landing a hard blow against his assailant, hastened
to his chum's rescue.
"You look after that fellow. I'll take care of this one," cried Jake,
rushing into the melee, whirling his monkey wrench in a formidable
manner.