Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-08-14
Touching on Tink Tuttle
Continued from page 7

They say he's made flight, though"
breaks in the young sport. The night
Waterman saw him. Hey! You re the chap
that built this aeropane, aren't your
Eyes, SIR says futile.
and didn't you make hight?' he wants
to know.
"a short one," says futile.
That's enough for me- says the sport.
Say, you know who am, don't you?'
ooh, yes" says futile. "At least, ought
to. You're Bradish Jones, jr., one of the
owners sons. :"
That's right" says young Mr.. Jones.
And l know you. You're the son of old
Tuttle, who used to be foreman of the ma
chine shop when was doing my apprentice
work. Thought this little trick of yours was
a secret, didn't you9 But heard about it.
Lucky for you did too. I'm in the market.
l don't care a boot what the Captain says,
either. want flyer, and I'm ready to take
a chance on yours. What do you want for
it?"
Why says futile, II don't believe I
want to SELL.
whats that?' snaps Bradish. Come,
now! Don't try to bluff me! I'll admit I'm
in hurry. These Curtiss people have been
holding me off for month, and l want to
begin flying right away. So name your price.
How much?"
But futile, he only shakes his head.
ooh, yes, you will, says Bradish. why,
you We hardly dollar to your name. You
can't afford to own flyer, even if you did
build it. You know you can't. Now show
me what it cost you, and I'll give you a thou
sand for your work and hundred week
until | learn to manage the thing. IS it a
go?"
"No!" says futile, sharp and quick, them
big eyes of his fairly blazin'. This is my
machine, and l m going to it. don't care
how much money you've got You've taken
a sudden whim that you'd like to fly. It's
been the one dream of my life. You've had
your yachts and your racing cars. I've
never had anything but hard work. My
father wore himself out in your sinking old
factory. | nearly did the same. But you
can't rob me of this. You sha mt, that S all"
And for a minute them two stood there
givin each other the assault and batt'ry
stare, without sayin' a word. A queer
loOkin pair they made, too; TINS Bradish
gent, big and beefy and prosperous, and
Tink futile, his greasy old coat hangin'
loose on his skinny shoulders, and lookin'
like he was on his way from the accident
ward to the coroners Office
Five thousand cash, then" growls Mr..
Jones.
Not if you said fiftyr' Tink comes back
at him.
BAH" says Bradish. why, 1 could
have you and your machine thrown out in
the road this minute. But I'll give you
twenty-four hours to think it over. Re-
member, tomorrow night at six I'll be here
with the money. Then it will be either sell
or go. Come, Captain, and with that they
pixies out.
SAY, Tink," says I, you got him comm,
~ all right, and if you don't get that five
thousand you're no good"
Il know I'm no good" says Tuttle
'That's why don't want his money"
But see here, Tink," says |. You amt
goin' to turn down an offer like that, are
you?'
Il am, says he, land I'll tell you why.
It's because | know I'm no good and never
would be any good, even if | could live,
which | can't. Oh, don't need any doctor
to tell me how much longer I've got. They
gave me only three months over year ago.
| knew better. | knew | should hold out
until l finished my flyer. Father didn't have
anything like that to keep on for; SO he
went quicker. He didn't want to go, either.
And it was awful to watch him, Torchy, just
awful! But I'm not going to finish that way.
No, not now" and he walks up to the ma