The Girl Aviators Sky Cruise

The Girl Aviators' Sky Cruise

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Title: The Girl Aviators' Sky Cruise
Author: Margaret Burnham
Release Date: February 6, 2004 [EBook #10954]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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AVIATORS' SKY CRUISE ***

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[Illustration: AT THE CORRECT MOMENT PEGGY DROPPED
THE WEIGHTED BUNDLE OVERBOARD.--Page 103.]
THE GIRL AVIATORS' SKY CRUISE
BY

MARGARET BURNHAM
AUTHOR OF "THE GIRL AVIATORS AND THE PHANTOM
AIRSHIP," "THE GIRL AVIATORS ON GOLDEN WINGS," ETC.
NEW YORK
HURST & COMPANY
1911
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I.
A NEW VENTURE IN SANDY BEACH II. MR. HARDING
DECLARES HIMSELF III. A NAVAL VISITOR IV. ALOFT IN A
STORM V. PEGGY A HEROINE VI. FARMER GALLOWAY'S
"SAFE DEPOSIT" VII. A CASE FOR THE AUTHORITIES VIII. MR.
MORTLAKE LOSES SOME DRAWINGS IX. THE FLIGHT OF
THE "SILVER COBWEB" X. AN AERIAL POST OFFICE XI. THE
MARKED BILL XII. WHAT HAPPENED TO ROY XIII. PLOT AND
COUNTERPLOT XIV. HOW THEY WORKED OUT XV. WHAT
MORTLAKE DID XVI. THE MISSING SIDE-COMB XVII. JIMSY'S
SUSPICIONS ARE ROUSED XVIII. A BOLT FROM THE BLUE
XIX. THE GATHERING OF THE MAN-BIRDS XX. AN
UNEXPECTED MEETING XXI. THE START OF THE SKY
CRUISE XXII. THE WHITE PERIL XXIII. OUT OF THE CLOUDS
XXIV. FRIENDS AND FOES--CONCLUSION
CHAPTER I.
A NEW VENTURE IN SANDY BEACH.
"It isn't to be a barn; that's one thing certain. Who ever saw a barn with
skylights on it?"

Peggy Prescott, in a pretty, fluffy morning dress of pale green, which
set off her blonde beauty to perfection, laid down her racket, and,
leaving the tennis-court, joined her brother Roy at the picket fence. The
lad, bronzed and toughened by his trip to the Nevada desert, was
leaning upon the paling, gazing down the dusty road.
About a quarter of a mile away was the object of his contemplation--a
big, new structure, painted a staring red. It had no windows, but in front
were great sliding doors. On its flat roof the forms of a dozen or more
glazed skylights upreared themselves jauntily.
"No, it's a work-shop of some sort. But what? Old man Harding is
interested in it, that's one thing sure. I heard, too, that while we were
away, cases of machinery had arrived and been delivered there, and that
active work of some sort had been going forward ever since," rejoined
Roy, who was clad in white tennis flannels, with white shoes and an
outing shirt, set off by a dark-red necktie.
"See Roy," cried Peggy suddenly, "they're putting up some sort of sign
on it, or else I'm very much mistaken."
"So they are. I see men on some ladders, and now, look Peg, they are
carrying up a big board with something painted on it. Perhaps at last the
mystery will be solved, as they say in the dime novels."
"Can you read the printing on that sign?" inquired Peggy.
"Not a word. I can see the letters to know that they are printed
characters, but that's all. Tell you what, Peg, just run and get those
glasses we used on the desert--there's a good fellow--and we'll soon
find out."
"Isn't that just like a brother? Always sending his long-suffering sister
on his errands."
"Why, you know you are dying with curiosity yourself, to know what's
on that signboard," parried Roy.

"And I suppose you're not," pouted Peggy in mock indignation.
"However, I'll get the field glasses to oblige you--just once."
"As if you won't try to secure the first peek through them!" laughed
Roy, as sunny Peggy tripped off across the lawn to a big shed in the
rear of the Prescott home, where the aeroplanes and their appurtenances
were kept.
She soon was back with the field glasses, and, as Roy had prophesied,
raised them to her eyes first. Having adjusted the focus, she scrutinized
the sign carefully. By this time the big board had been raised
horizontally above the doors and was being fixed in position.
Suddenly Peggy gave a little squeal of astonishment and lowered the
magnifiers.
"Well, what is it?" chaffed Roy; "an anarchist bomb factory or an
establishment for raising goats, or something that will "butt in" just as
much on our peace and quiet, or----"
"Roy Prescott," enunciated Peggy, severely shaking one pink-tipped
finger under Roy's freckled nose, "this is not a subject for jesting."
"Never more serious in my life, Sis. If you could have seen your own
face as you peeked