The Girl Aviators' Motor Butterfly — Background and Themes

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 aëroplane.

"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 aëroplane, 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 aërial 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 aërial 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 aërial 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 aëroplane 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.

"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 aërial 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 aëroplanes 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 aërial 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 aëroplanes 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:

"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 aërial 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.

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 aërial craze, had not forgotten how to make.

The boys set up a shout as, returning from attending to the aëroplanes, 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 aëroplanes 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."