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The Boy Scouts of the Air in Indian Land   By:

The Boy Scouts of the Air in Indian Land by Gordon Stuart

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The Boy Scouts of the Air in Indian Land

Boy Scouts of the Air Books

BY GORDON STUART

Illustrated by Norman P. Hall

The Reilly & Britton Co. Chicago

COPYRIGHT, 1912 By THE REILLY & BRITTON CO.

THE BOY SCOUTS OF THE AIR IN INDIAN LAND

[Illustration: They crept, wriggled and crawled toward the machine. The air was stifling and they could hardly breathe, but, groping in the smoke and darkness, Carl finally got his hands on the truck.]

CONTENTS

I A RIDE AND A RUNAWAY

II THE DESTROYER

III THE LEGEND OF THE THUNDER BIRD

IV AN AVIATOR APPEARS

V AT THE B. P. RANCH

VI WINNING AN AEROPLANE

VII IN THE MOUNTAINS

VIII THE STORM

IX A STRANGE MEETING

X THE PATROL BECOMES A FACT

XI A SURPRISE FOR MR. PHIPPS

XII THE THUNDER BIRD ATTACKS

XIII AT WORK ON THE AEROPLANE

XIV THE FIRE

XV REPAIRING THE PLANE

XVI THE FIRST FLIGHT

XVII IN SIGHT OF THE ENEMY

XVIII SUCCESS AT LAST

XIX JUMPING A PEAK

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

They crept, wriggled and crawled toward the machine. The air was stifling and they could hardly breathe, but, groping in the smoke and darkness, Carl finally got his hands on the truck.

"Now, scouts," said Mr. Hawke, amused at their excited exclamations, "we'll put this together, and I'll show you the model of the 'Thunder Bird Aeroplane.'"

Carl stopped short. In front of him stood a tall, stately, blanketed Indian. His whole face was hideously painted in various colors, and his countenance was set and expressionless.

The struggle promised to be a long and hard one if Carl were left to fight it alone. But this the other boys did not propose to allow, and they immediately began to cross on the rope ladder.

Boy Scouts of the Air In Indian Land

CHAPTER I

A RIDE AND A RUNAWAY

"There she comes," exclaimed a boy, one of a crowd awaiting the evening train in the hot little box of a depot at Silver City, New Mexico. A speck of yellow had suddenly appeared far down the light, worn rails to the east. Fifty loungers moved forward. The evening train was coming at last.

"If mother don't look out," added the speaker, who was a tall, slender young chap with strikingly black hair and eyes, "she'll miss the train an' the folks that are coming. Mother seems to like to be late always."

"Don't get excited, Jerry," broke in a second boy, this one with big shoulders, a square determined face with a winning smile, and, his chief characteristic, a big mop of yellow hair. "I think Ike and your mother are coming right now."

While the headlight was yet only a growing star on the far away plain, a military hack, drawn by two nervous horses in charge of a colored soldier in uniform, dashed up to the now lively depot in a cloud of dust.

Those awaiting the arrival of the train made a fair picture of the people living in that part of the half desert Southwest. There were miners, soldiers, sheepmen, freighters, loafers not easily classified, and the usual mixture of Mexicans and civilized Indians. The arrival of the train meant little to any of these except that it brought the daily mail, strangers in the shape of prospectors, or drummers who might spend a few dollars, and nearly always some one going to the Fort.

All soldiers know Fort Bayard. It isn't a real fort any more, although a few cannon sit idly about the big white stockade and new brick buildings, but the tired and sick soldier in the Philippines, in California or in New York, knows that here, when all else fails, he may be sent to find rest and new health. Uncle Sam has selected the old post as the best place in the United States to put new life into his ailing soldiers.

That's why, the Indian and his troubles having disappeared, and consequently the need for armed militia, that old Fort Bayard has been dismantled, new buildings put up, and the old structures repaired and whitewashed and put in charge of a medical staff... Continue reading book >>




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