Mr. Hawkins' Humorous Adventures
CHAPTER III.
We were sitting on my porch, smoking placidly in the sunset glow, whenHawkins aroused himself from a momentary reverie and remarked:
"Now, if the body were made of aluminum it would be far lighter and justas strong, wouldn't it?"
"Probably, Hawkins," I replied, "but it would also be decidedly stiffand inconvenient. Just imagine how one's aluminium knees would crackleand bend going up and down-stairs, and what an awful job one would haveconforming one's aluminum spinal column to the back of a chair."
"No, no, no, no," cried Hawkins, impatiently. "I don't mean the humanbody, Griggs; I----"
"I'm glad to hear it," I said. "Don't you go to inventing an aluminumman, Hawkins. Good, old-fashioned flesh and bones have been givingthorough satisfaction for the past few thousand years, and it would bewiser for you to turn your peculiar talents toward----"
"There! there! That will do!" snapped the inventor, standing stifflyerect and throwing away his cigar. "This is not the first time that thatmistaken humor of yours has prevented your absorbing new ideas, Griggs.Incidentally, I may mention that I was referring to the body of anautomobile. Good-evening!"
Whereupon Hawkins stalked up the road in the direction of his summerhome, and I wondered for a minute if his words might not be prophetic offuture trouble.
Now, where any aspersion is cast upon his inventive genius, Hawkins isquick to anger, but usually he is equally ready to forgive andforget. Hence it astonished me that two whole weeks passed Without theappearance of his genial countenance on my premises.
They were really two weeks of peace unbroken, but I had begun to thinkthat it might be better for me to stroll over and beg pardon for mylevity when one bright morning Hawkins came chug-chugging up the drivein a huge, new, red automobile.
It was of the type so constructed that the two rear seats of the car maybe dropped off at will, converting it into a carriage for two, and theonly peculiar detail I noted was the odd-looking top or canopy.
"Well, what do you think of her?" demanded Hawkins with some pride.
"She's all right," I said, admiringly.
"Body's built of aluminum," continued the inventor. "Jump in and feelthe action of her."
As I have said, barring the canopy, the thing appeared to be anordinary touring-car, and I was tired of lolling in the hammock. Withoutmisgiving, I climbed in beside Hawkins, and he turned back to the road.
The auto did run beautifully. I had never been in a machine that was sototally indifferent to rough spots.
When we came to a hillock, we simply floated over it. If we reached anuncomfortably sharp turn, the auto seemed to rise and cut it off withhardly a swerve.
Once or twice I noticed that Hawkins deliberately steered out of theroad and into big rocks; but the auto, in the most peculiar manner, justtouched them and bounced over with never a jar.
In fact, after two miles of rather heavy going, I suddenly realized thatI hadn't experienced the slightest of jolts.
"Hawkins," I observed, "the man that made the springs under this thingmust have been a magician."
"Well, well!" said the inventor. "On to it at last that there issomething out of the ordinary about this auto, are you? But it's not thesprings, my dear boy, it's not the springs!"
"What is it?"
"Griggs," said Hawkins, beaming upon me, "you are riding in the firstand only Hawkins' Auto-aero-mobile! That's what it is!"
"Another invention!" I gasped.
"Yes, another invention. What the deuce are you turning pale about?"
"Well, your inventions, Hawkins--"
"Don't be such a coward, Griggs. Except that I had the body built ofaluminum, this is just an ordinary automobile. The invention lies in thecanopy. It's a balloon!"
"Is it--is it?" I said weakly.
"Yes, sir. Just at present it's a balloon with not quite enough gas init to counterbalance the pull of gravitation on the car and ourselves.I've got two cylinders of compressed gas still connected with it. WhenI let them feed automatically into the balloon, and then automaticallydrop the iron cylinders themselves in to the road, we shall fairly boundover the ground, because the balloon will just a trifle more than carrythe whole outfit."
"Well, don't waste all that good gas, Hawkins," I said hastily. "Ican--I can understand perfectly just how we should bound without that."
"Don't worry about the gas," smiled Hawkins placidly. "It costspractically nothing. There! One of the cylinders is discharging now."
I glanced timidly above. Sure enough, the canopy was expanding slowlyand assuming a spherical shape.
Presently a thud announced that Hawkins had dropped the cylinder. Thenhe pulled another lever, and the process was repeated.
As the second cylinder dropped, we rose nearly a foot into the air.Still we maintained a forward motion, and that was puzzling.
"How is it, Hawkins," I quavered, "that we're still going ahead when wedon't touch the ground more than once in a hundred feet?"
"That's the propeller," chuckled the inventor. "I put a propeller atthe back, so that the auto is almost a dirigible balloon. Oh, there'snothing lacking about the Hawkins Auto-aero-mobile, Griggs, I can tellyou."
When I had recovered from the first nervous shock, the contrivancereally did not seem so dangerous.
We traveled in long, low leaps, the machine rarely rising more than afoot from the ground, and the motion was certainly unique and ratherpleasant.
Nevertheless, I have a haunting fear of anything invented by Hawkins,and my mind would insist upon wandering to thoughts of home.
"Not going down-town, are you, Hawkins?" I asked with what carelessnessI could assume.
"Just for a minute. I want some cigars."
"Hawkins," I murmured, "you are a pretty heavy man. When you get out ofthis budding airship, it won't soar into the heavens with me, will it?"
"It would if I got out," said the inventor, with pleasant assurance."But I'm not going to get out. We'll let the cigar man bring the stuffto us."
So it would rise if any weight left the car! That was food for thought.
Suppose Hawkins, who operated the auto according to the magazinepictures of racing chauffeurs, leaning far forward, should topple intothe road? Suppose a stray breeze should tilt the machine and throw outsome part?
Up without doubt, we should go, and there seemed to be quite an openspace up above, through which we might travel indefinitely withouthitting anything that would stay our celestial journey.
"How do you let the gas out of the balloon, Hawkins?" I venturedpresently.
"Oh, the cock's down underneath the machine," said that gentlemanbriefly. "Don't worry, Griggs. I'm here."
That, in a nutshell, was just what was worrying me, but there seemed tobe nothing more to say. I relapsed into silence.
We rolled or floated or bounced, or whatever you may choose to call it,into town without accident or incident. People stared considerably atthe kangaroo antics of our car, and one or two horses, after their firstglance, developed _furor transitorius_ on the spot; but Hawkins managedto pull up before his cigar store, which was in the outskirts of thetown, without kicking up any very serious disturbance.
The cigars aboard, I had hoped to turn my face homeward. Not so Hawkins.
"Now, down we go to the square," he cried buoyantly, "do a turn beforethe court house, float straight over the common, and then bounce awayhome. I guess it'll make the natives talk, eh, Griggs?"
"Your things usually do, Hawkins," I sighed. "But why perform to-day?This is only the first trial trip. Something might go wrong."
"My dear boy," laughed the inventor, "this is one of those trial tripsthat simply can't go wrong, because every detail is perfected to theuttermost limit."
That settled it; we made for the square.
The square, be it remarked, is in the center of the town. The courthouse stands on one side, the post office on the other, and the squareitself is a beautifully kept lawn.
We were jus
t in sight of the grass when I fancied that I detected arattle.
"What's that noise, Hawkins?" I said.
"Give it up. Something in the machinery. It's nothing."
"But I seem to feel a peculiar shaking in the machine," I persisted.
"You seem to feel a great many things that don't exist, Griggs,"remarked Hawkins, with a touch of contempt.
"But----"
"Hey, mister!" yelled a small boy. "Hey! Yer back seat's fallin' off!"
"What did he say?" muttered Hawkins, too full of importance to turn hishead.
"Hey! Hey!" cried the youngster, pursuing us. "Dat back seat's most felloff!"
"What!" shrieked Hawkins, whirling about. "Good Lord! So it is! Catchit, Griggs, catch it quick!"
I turned. The boy was right. The rear seats of the automobile hadmanaged to detach themselves.
In fact, even as we stared, they were hanging by a single bolt, and thehead of that was missing.
"Griggs! Griggs!" shouted Hawkins, wildly endeavoring to stop theengine. "Grab those seats before they fall! I didn't screw 'em on witha wrench--only used my hands--but I supposed they were fast. Heavens! Ifthey drop, we shall go----"
Just at that moment a sudden jolt sent the seats into the road.
Two hundred pounds of solid material had left the HawkinsAuto-aero-mobile!
Hawkins didn't have to finish the sentence.
It became painfully evident where we should go.
We went up!
Up, up, up! In the suddenness of it, it seemed to me that we wereshooting straight for the midday sun, that another thirty seconds wouldsee us frying in the solar flames.
As I gripped the cushions, I believe that I shrieked with terror.
But Hawkins, scared though he was, didn't lose his head entirely. Themachine hadn't turned turtle. It was ascending slowly in its normalattitude, and as a matter of cold fact we hadn't risen more than thirtyfeet when Hawkins remarked, shakily:
"There, there, Griggs! Sit still! It's all right. We're safe!"
"Safe!" I gasped, when sufficient breath had returned. "It looks as ifwe were safe, doesn't it?"
"N-n-never mind how it looks, Griggs. We are. The propeller's workingnow."
"What good does that do us?" I demanded.
"Good!" cried the inventor, pulling himself together. "Why, we shallsimply steer for the roof of a house and alight."
"Always provided that this cursed contrivance doesn't heave us outfirst!"
"Oh, it won't," smiled Hawkins, settling down to his machinery oncemore. "Dear me, Griggs, do look at the crowd!"
There was indeed a crowd. They had sprung up on the instant, and theywere racing along beneath us across the common, quite regardless of the"Keep Off the Grass" signs.
"How they will stare when we step out on the roof, won't they?" observedHawkins.
"If we don't step out on their heads!" I snapped. "Steer away from thosetelegraph wires, Hawkins."
"Yes, yes, of course," said the inventor, nervously regarding thethirty or forty wires strung directly across our path. "Queer this thingdoesn't respond more readily!"
"Well, make her respond!" I cried, excitedly, for the wires weredangerously near.
"I'm doing my best, Griggs," grunted the inventor, twisting this wheeland pulling that lever. "Don't worry, we'll sail over them all right.We'll just--pshaw!"
With a gentle, swaying kind of bump, the auto stopped. We had grounded,so to speak, on the telegraph wires.
"That's the end of this trial trip!" I remarked, caustically. "Theepilogue will consist of the scene we create in distributing our brainsover that green grass below."
"Oh, tut, tut!" said Hawkins. "This is nothing serious. I'll just startthe propeller on the reverse and we'll float off backward."
"Well, wait a minute before you start it," I said. "They're shoutingsomething."
"Don't jump! Don't jump!" cried the crowd.
"Who the dickens is going to jump?" replied Hawkins, angrily, leaningover the side. "Fools!" he observed to me.
"The hook and ladder's coming!" continued a stentorian voice.
"Don't jump! Don't jump!" cried the crowd.]
"Well, they'll have their trouble for their pains," snapped Hawkins. "Weshall be on the ground before they get here."
"Why not wait?" I said. "We'll be sure to get down safely that way, andyou don't know what you may do by starting the machinery. The wires areall mixed up in it, and they may smash and drag us down, or upset us,Hawkins."
"Croak! Croak! Croak!" replied Hawkins, sourly. "Go on and croak tillyour dying day, Griggs. If any one ever offers a prize for a pessimisticalarmist, you take my advice and compete. You'll win. _I'm_ going tostart the engine and get out of this."
He pulled the reverse lever, and the engine buzzed merrily. The autoindulged in a series of unwholesome convulsive shivers, but it didn'tbudge.
"Hey! Hey!" floated up from the crowd.
"Oh, look and see what they're howling about now," growled Hawkins.
The cause of their vociferations was only too apparent.
Ping! Ping! Ping! One by one, sawed in two by the machine, the telegraphwires were snapping!
"Stop it! Stop it, Hawkins!" I cried. "You're smashing the wires!"
"Well, suppose I am? That'll let us out, won't it?"
"See here," I said, sternly, "if an all wise Providence should happen tospare us from being dragged down and dashed to pieces, consider the billfor repairs which you'll have to foot. You stop that engine, Hawkins, orI'll do it myself."
"Well----" said the inventor, doubtfully. "There! Now be satisfied. I'vestopped it, and we'll wait and be taken down the ladder like a couple ofconfounded Italian women in a tenement house fire."
Hawkins sat back with a sullen scowl. I drew a long breath of relief,and began to scan the landscape for signs of the hook and laddercompany.
They were a long time in coming. Meanwhile, we were hanging in space, afrisky balloon overhead, and below, Hawkins' engine having consideratelyleft a little of the telegraph company's property uninjured, sixtelegraph wires and a gaping crowd.
But the ladders couldn't be very far off now, and we seemed safe enough,until--
"What's that sizzling, Hawkins?" I inquired.
"I don't know," he replied, gruffly.
"Well, why don't you try to find out?" I said, sharply. "It seems to methat we're resting pretty heavily on those wires."
"Indeed?"
"Yes." I glanced out at the balloon canopy. "Great Scott, Hawkins, theballoon's leaking!"
"Eh? What?" he cried, suddenly galvanized into action. "Where, Griggs,where?"
"I don't know. But that's what is happening. See how the wires aresagging--more and more every second."
"Great Cesar's ghost! Listen. Yes, the wires must have hit the escapevalve. Why, the gas is simply pouring out of the balloon. And themachine's getting heavier and heavier. And we're just resting on thosesix wires, Griggs! Oh, Lord!"
"And presently, Hawkins, we shall break the wires and drop?" Isuggested, with forced calm.
"Yes, yes!" cried the inventor. "What'll we do, Griggs, what'll we do?"
Frightened as I was, I couldn't see what was to be gained by hysterics.
"I presume," I said, "that the best thing is to sit still and wait forthe end."
"Yes, but think, man, think of that awful drop! Forty feet, if it's aninch!"
"Fully."
"Why, we'll simply be knocked to flinders!"
"Probably."
"Oh, the idiots! The idiots!" raged Hawkins, shaking his fists at thecrowd. "Why didn't they bring a fire net? Why hasn't one of them senseenough to get one? We could jump then."
Ping! The first of the six wires had snapped.
Ping! The second had followed suit.
The Hawkins Auto-aero-mobile was very delicately balanced now on fourslim wires, and the balloon was collapsing with heart-rending rapidity.From below sounds of excitement were audible, here and there a groan
andnow a scream of horror, as some new-comer realized our position.
"Hawkins," I said, solemnly, "why don't you make a vow right now that ifwe ever get out of this alive----"
Ping! went the third wire. The auto swayed gently for a moment.
"You'll never invent another thing as long as you live?"
"Griggs," said Hawkins, in trembling tones, "I almost believe that youare right. Where on earth can that hook and ladder be? Yes, you areright. I'll do--I'll--can you see them yet, Griggs? I'll do it! Iswear----"
Ping! Ping! Ping!
Still sitting upon the cushions, I felt my heart literally leap into mythroat. My eyes closed before a sudden rush of wind. My hands grippedout wildly.
For one infinitesimal second, I was astonished at the deathly stillnessof everything. Then the roar of a thousand voices nearly deafened me,the seat seemed to hurl me violently into the air, for another briefinstant I shot through space. Then my hands clutched some one's hair,and I crashed to the ground, with an obliging stout man underneath.
And I knew that I still lived!
Well, the auto had dropped--that was all. Ready hands placed me upon myfeet. Vaguely I realized that Dr. Brotherton, our physician, was runninghis fingers rapidly over my anatomy.
Later he addressed me through a dreamland haze and said that not abone was broken. I recall giving him a foolish smile and thanking himpolitely.
Some twenty feet away I was conscious that Hawkins was chatteringvolubly to a crowd of eager faces. His own features were bruised almostbeyond recognition, but he, too, was evidently on this side of the RiverJordan, and I felt a faint sense of irritation that the Auto-aero-mobilehadn't made an end of him.
My wits must have remained some time aloft for a last inspection of thespot where ended our aerial flight. Certainly they did not wholly returnuntil I found myself sitting beside Hawkins in Brotherton's carriage.
We were just driving past a pile of red scrap-metal that had once beenthe auto, and the wondering crowd was parting to let us through.
"Well, that's the end of your aerothingamajig, Hawkins," I observed,with deep satisfaction.
"Oh, yes, experience is expensive, but a great teacher," replied theinventor, thickly, removing a wet cloth from his much lacerated upperlip to permit speech. "When I build the next one----"
"You'll have to get a divorce before you build the next one," I added,with still deeper satisfaction, as I pictured in imagination the livelylittle domestic fracas that awaited Hawkins.
If his excellent lady gets wind of the doings in his "workshop," Hawkinsrarely invents the same thing twice.
"Well, then, if I build another," corrected Hawkins, sobering suddenly,"I shall be careful not to use that rear arrangement at all. I shallplace the valve of the balloon where I can get at it more easily. Ishall----"
"Mr. Hawkins," said Brotherton, abruptly, "I thought I asked you to keepthat cloth over your mouth until I get you where I can sew up that lip."
Apart from any medical bearing, it struck me that that remark indicatedgood, sound sense on Brotherton's part.