Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. The Flying Girl by L. Frank Baum (ereader iphone .TXT) 📖
- Author: L. Frank Baum
Book online «The Flying Girl by L. Frank Baum (ereader iphone .TXT) 📖». Author L. Frank Baum
Chesty bowed and sat down. Then he turned to his prisoner and said:
“Fire away, Tyler. Tell the whole story—the truth and nothing but the truth so help you.”
Tyler opened his mouth with effort, mumbled and gurgled a moment and then looked at his captor appealingly.
“Oh; very well. The criminal, ladies and gentlemen, seems to have lost, in this crisis, the power of expressing himself. So I shall relate to you the story, just as I extracted it—by slow and difficult processes—from the prisoner in my room, a short time ago. If I make any mistakes he will correct me.”
Tyler seemed much relieved.
“This creature,” began Chesty, “has previous to this eventful day been known to mankind as a good chauffeur and a bad citizen. He was employed by Burthon as an unscrupulous tool, his chief recommendation being a deadly hatred of Mr. Cumberford, who at one time indelicately applied the toe of his boot to a tender part of Mr. Tyler’s anatomy. Burthon also hated Cumberford, for robbing him of a million or so in a mine deal, and for other things of which I am not informed—or Tyler, either. Cumberford owns a 210controlling interest in the Kane Aircraft, and—”
“That’s wrong,” interrupted Stephen.
“I imagine Mr. Tyler’s story is wrong in many ways,” returned Mr. Radley-Todd, composedly. “I am merely relating it as I heard it.”
“Go on, sir.”
“Cumberford had also maligned Mr. Burthon to Miss Orissa Kane, a young lady for whom Burthon entertained a fatherly interest and a—er—hum—a platonic affection. Is that right, Tyler?”
Tyler growled.
“Therefore Burthon decided to get even with Cumberford, and Tyler agreed to help him. The first plan was to steal the design of Stephen Kane’s airship and by cleverly heading him off in some aëro-political manner put the firm of Cumberford & Kane out of business. This scheme was approaching successful fruition when a saucy, impudent schoolgirl—Tyler’s description, not mine—appeared on the scene and spiked Mr. Burthon’s guns. Burthon explained to Tyler that in bygone days he had saved his sister, Cumberford’s wife, from going to prison for a crime Cumberford had urged her to commit, but in doing this he had been obliged to defy the law, and the officers are unfortunately still on the generous 211man’s trail. Cumberford’s daughter, knowing the situation, threatened to have Burthon arrested—to betray him to the bloodhounds of the cruel law—unless he withdrew his machine from the aviation meet and made tracks for pastures new.”
The Kanes were now regarding Sybil with amazement and her father with suspicion if not distrust. The girl stared back at them haughtily; Cumberford shrugged his shoulders and stroked his drooping, grizzled mustache. Chesty Todd, observing this pantomime, laughed pleasantly.
“Tyler’s story—told to me—of Burthon’s story—told to Tyler,” he observed, his eyes twinkling. “There’s pitch somewhere, and I’ve not been favorably impressed by Mr. Burthon during my slight acquaintance with him. I make it a rule,” speaking more slowly, “to judge people by their actions; by what they do, rather than by what people say of them. Judging Burthon by his actions I should have little confidence in what he says.”
“You are quite right,” declared Stephen, eagerly. “I’ll guarantee, if necessary, that Burthon lied about both Mr. Cumberford and his daughter. No man ever had a truer friend than Mr. Cumberford has been to me.”
Cumberford scowled; Sybil gave Steve one of her rare smiles.
212“Anyhow,” continued the narrator, “Tyler was in despair because the aëroplane he was booked to operate was withdrawn from the meet. Burthon told him if they wanted revenge they must act quickly. Their sources of information—erroneous, as the event proved—led them to believe their enemy Cumberford would fly the rival aëroplane, and Tyler needed little urging to induce him to undertake to wreck it. Burthon paid him a thousand dollars in advance, to make the attempt, and promised him four thousand more if he succeeded.”
“Five more,” growled Tyler.
“I stand corrected; but it won’t matter. Tyler made the attempt, as you know. He had no idea Miss Kane was in the airship he was trying to demolish until the last moment, when by a clever turn he intercepted her aëroplane and was on the point of running it down. Just then, to his horror and dismay, he saw the girl plainly and made a desperate effort to check the speed of his machine—to avoid running her down. That was the cause of his mishap, he claims, and his desire to save Miss Kane nearly cost him his life. While he was descending a mile or so through the air, clinging to the footrail, he fiercely repented his wicked act, so that by the time he struck the ground he was a reformed criminal, and, for the first time 213since he cut his eye teeth, an honest man. So he says, and he expects us to believe it.
“I happened to be near the spot where Tyler rolled and picked him up unconscious—dazed by his repentance, I suppose. The mob wanted to disjoint him and remove his skin, which was not a bad idea; but I decided he could be of more use to Miss Kane alive—for the present, at least—because he might untangle some threads of the mystery. So I threw him into my car, got him to my room at Mrs. Skipp’s boarding house, restored him to consciousness, applied the thumbscrews, got his deposition, lugged him here to you, and now—please have the kindness to take him off my hands, for I’m tired of him.”
Orissa laughed, a little nervously. They were all regarding Chesty with unfeigned admiration and Tyler with pronounced aversion.
Mrs. Kane was the first to speak. Said the blind woman, softly:
“Orissa, you alone can judge this man. You alone can tell whether from the beginning he knew you were in the aëroplane or whether his claim is true that he discovered your identity at the last moment—and tried to save you. If he speaks truly, if he repented at the moment and risked his life to save you, it will have a great influence upon his fate. Speak, my child; you two were together 214in the air a mile above the earth, a mile from any other human being. Does the man speak truly?”
Orissa paled; suddenly she grew grave and a frightened look crept into her clear eyes.
THE REAL HEROINE
Chesty Todd had spoken so lightly, in a serio-comic vein, and had so belittled the “reformed villain” and contemptuously made him appear pitiful and weak, that he had somewhat disarmed his hearers and led them to forget the seriousness of the contemplated crime. But Mrs. Kane, listening intently to the story, found no humor in the situation, and the blind woman’s gentle remark promptly recalled to every mind the full horror of the dastardly attempt.
She was quite right in declaring that Orissa alone could approve or condemn Tyler’s statement. If he spoke truly he was entitled to a degree of mercy at their hands; if, knowing that a girl was operating the Kane Aircraft, he had still persisted in his frantic attempt to wreck it and send her to her death, then no punishment could be too great for such a cowardly deed.
This was instantly appreciated by all present. Even Tyler, seeing that his fate hinged on Orissa’s evidence, ventured to raise his head and cast at 216her an imploring glance. Chesty Todd dropped his flippant air and earnestly watched the girl’s face; the others with equal interest awaited her decisive statement.
As for Orissa, the gravity of the situation awed her. Recalling the dreadful moments when she battled in the air for her life she saw before her the scowling, vicious face of her enemy and remembered how his eyes had glared wickedly into her own time and again as he attacked her aëroplane, determined to destroy it at all hazards. There was no question in her mind as to the truth of Tyler’s claim; she knew he had recognized her and still persisted in his purpose. She knew the accident to his machine was caused by his own carelessness and its faulty construction, and not by any desire of his to arrest its speed. Tyler had deliberately lied in order to condone his cowardly act, and she experienced a feeling of indignation that he should resort to such an infamous falsehood, knowing as he must that her evidence would render it impotent.
Orissa contemplated her erstwhile assailant with reflective deliberation. She noted his miserable appearance, his abject manner, the moods of alternate despair and hope that crossed his withered features. An enemy so contemptible and mean was scarcely worthy of her vengeance. 217It seemed dreadful that such a despicable creature had been made in man’s image. Could he possess a soul, she wondered? Could such an one own a conscience, or have any perception, however dim, of the brutal inhumanity of his offense? Being in man’s image he must have such things. Perhaps in his nature was still some element of good, dormant and unrecognized as yet, which might develop in time and redeem him. To send him to prison, she reflected, would not be likely to correct the perversity of such a nature, while generous treatment and the forbearance of those he had wronged might tend to awaken in him remorse and a desire to retrieve his past. Without knowing it the girl was arguing on the side of the world’s most expert criminologists, who hold that to destroy an offender cannot benefit society so much as to redeem him.
Whether Tyler’s ultimate redemption was probable or not, Orissa did not care to assume the responsibility of crushing him in order to avenge the shameful attempt, made in a moment of frenzy, to destroy her life. While those assembled hung breathless upon her words she said with assumed composure:
“The man knows better than I whether he speaks the truth. Could one be so utterly vile as to try to murder a girl who had never injured 218him? I think not. It is more reasonable to suppose that in his excitement he forgot himself—his manhood and his sense of justice—and only at the last moment realized what he was doing. I believe,” she added, simply, “I shall give him the credit of the doubt and accept his statement.”
Tyler stared at her as if he could scarcely believe his senses, while an expression of joy slowly spread over his haggard face. Radley-Todd gave Orissa a quiet smile of comprehension and approval. Cumberford said, musingly: “Ah; this interests me; indeed it does.” But Stephen exclaimed, in an impatient tone:
“That does not clear Tyler of his attempt to murder Mr. Cumberford and destroy the aircraft. He admits that such was his design and that Burthon paid him to do it. He is not less a criminal because Orissa happened to be in the aëroplane. Therefore it is Mr. Cumberford’s duty to prosecute this scoundrel and put him in prison.”
Tyler cast a frightened look at the speaker and began to tremble again. Said Chesty Todd, leaning back in his chair with his hands thrust into his pockets:
“That’s the idea. The prisoner belongs to Mr. Cumberford.”
Cumberford sat in his characteristic attitude, stooping forward and thoughtfully stroking his grizzled mustache.
219“Did I hurt you very much when I kicked you, Tyler?” he meekly asked.
“No, sir!” protested the man, eagerly.
“Would you have thought of such a revenge had not Burthon suggested it, and paid you to carry it out?”
“No, sir!”
“M—m. Would you like to murder me now?”
“No, sir!”
“What will you do if I set you at liberty?”
“Clear out, sir,” said Tyler earnestly.
“Ah; that interests me,” declared Mr. Cumberford.
“It doesn’t interest me, though,” Stephen said angrily. “The brute tried to wreck my aircraft.”
“But he failed,” suggested Mr. Cumberford. “The aircraft is still in apple-pie order.”
“My son,” said the boy’s mother, in her gentle voice, “can you afford to be less generous than Mr. Cumberford and—your sister?”
Stephen flushed. Then he glanced toward Sybil and found the girl eyeing him curiously, expectantly.
“Oh, well,” he said, with reluctance, “let him go. Such a fiend, at large, is a menace to society. That is why I wished to make an example of him. If aëroplanes are to be attacked in mid-air, after this, the dangers of aviation will be redoubled.”
220“I wouldn’t worry about that,” carelessly remarked Todd. “This fellow is too abject a coward to continue a career of crime along those lines. He’s had his lesson, and he’ll remember it. I don’t say he’ll turn honest, for I imagine it isn’t in him; but he’ll be mighty careful hereafter how he conducts himself.”
“I—I’ll never step foot in an aëroplane again!” growled Tyler, hoarsely but with great earnestness.
“Suppose you meet Burthon again?” suggested Steve, distrustfully.
“If I do,” said the man, scowling and clinching his fists, “I—I’ll strangle him!”
“A nice,
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