The old fellow, still chewing, looked up at the sky and then around the heavens, squinting one eye as he carefully studied the signs.
“It’ll rain like all creation inside of a couple of hours; then it’ll hold up a little while and bime by start in agin and drizzle all night.”
“It’ll be bright and clear, but a little cooler than to-day.”
“Tell the young gentleman how the rest of the week will be,” insisted his neighbor.
“The next three days will be clear and rayther warmish; I won’t say anything beyond that this afternoon, but if ye wanter know, I’ll obleege ye to-morrer when I’ve had a snifter and my breakfast.”
“I am much obliged; you have told me what I wanted to know. I shall need shelter for this aeroplane; can any of you gentlemen help me?”
There was less difficulty than Harvey anticipated. Chesterton had a single large hotel or tavern as the townspeople called it, with the usual rows of sheds for the convenience of countrymen when they drove in from the neighborhood. With the help of several bystanders the machine was shoved over the road and through the alley—where much care was necessary to save the wings from injury—to the sheds at the rear. There, after some delicate maneuvering, the machine was worked into the shelter at the corner, where a fair hangar was secured.
“Here we stay till the weather clears,” said Harvey to Bunk, as they strolled into the hotel to get their dinner, for which each had a keen appetite.
Where all showed so hospitable a disposition, Harvey felt little fear of any harm to the aeroplane, though Bohunkus strolled out once or twice to make sure everything was right. After the meal the young aviator seated himself in the utility room, as it may be called. This was connected by a door that was always open with the bar, and was intended for the convenience of those who wished something a little less public. It was provided with several chairs, a round table standing in the middle of the apartment, and had a sanded floor and a few cheap sporting prints on the walls. A half dozen men were seated around, most of them with feet elevated on other chairs or the window sills, while they gossiped of the affairs of the neighborhood. They showed little interest in Harvey and Bunk. The former obtained pen, paper and ink from the landlord and spent a part of the afternoon in writing to his parents and to brother Dick in the Adirondacks. He named a town in advance which he expected to reach at the end of a week, as the proper one to which to address their replies. This duty attended to, Harvey looked at Bunk, whose cap had fallen on the floor as he leaned back in his chair and slept. There was no prejudice so far as yet shown against his race in that section and he was not annoyed by any one.