I FEAR that our glimpses of Bohunkus Johnson have been so vague that you think it is time something more positive should be told. Let us therefore give our attention to the colored youth and make clear what befell him. It becomes necessary to go back to that day in eastern Pennsylvania when he parted company with Harvey Hamilton. His extraordinary experience was wholly due to the little tiff he had had with the young aviator. How true it is that “great oaks from little acorns grow.” But for that trifling affair I should have finished my story long ago.  
It is a hard thing to deal with a brilliant mind gone askew, especially when the line between sanity and insanity becomes at times indistinct, if it does not wholly disappear. Professor Milo Morgan was carried away by his intense interest in aeronautics. You have learned of the remarkable inventions he had already made in that field. He had discovered how to make the flight of his machine noiseless, and could remain in the air for ten or twelve hours. Not only that, but he had[203] succeeded in constructing a helicopter,—that is, an aeroplane that will rise vertically by means of the horizontal screw or propeller beneath.
 
Having achieved all this, he became absorbed in the scheme of remaining aloft for two days at least. When he could do that he would be able, while traveling at the rate of seventy-five miles an hour, to cross the Atlantic between Quebec and Liverpool (2600 miles) in a trifle less than a day and a half. That his ambition was not so mad as it may seem, I may add that, while I am writing these lines, a professional aviator has declared that he is certain of accomplishing the feat in the near future. I venture to predict, that within the next three years the trip will be made by more than one aviator.
 
The Professor was so rapt in his work that he thought of nothing else and became indifferent toward every one. He cared nothing for Harvey or Bunk or the great task of Detective Pendar. What he did by way of aiding them may be called side issues. The chances came in his way and he used them as he might have used a score of others of a different nature, with no thought or interest or care in what should follow.
 
When the African youth came to him at the hotel in Chesterton and asked the privilege of accompanying[204] him to Africa, the proposal was promptly accepted. It may have been that the crank took a liking to the big, honest fellow, but it is more probable he saw that Bohunkus would become more than a simple passenger. The man had felt the need of an assistant,—not a negative person, but one who could help him in what might be called the rough work he had in hand. It was physical, not mental aid that he wanted while engaged in completing his experiments with full success in sight.
 
The Professor inquired whether Bunk was at liberty to go with him on the long aerial voyage. In other words must he have the permission of young Hamilton?
 
“Huh!” sniffed the lad, in whose heart still rankled resentment because of his late rebuke; “he hain’t got nuffin to do with me; I’m my own boss and he knows better dan to put on airs with me.”
 
“That being the case I will take you, but it will be two or three days before I shall be ready to start.”
 
“Dat don’ make no diff’rence, so you starts some time. I can wait, I reckons, till yo’ am suited.”
 
“And you may have some hard work to perform in helping me.”
 
[205]“I’m used to work; dat don’t scare me; jes’ tell me what yo’ want done and I’ll doot.”
 
“I recall something about your father being a great chief in Africa.”
 
“Dat’s de fac’,” replied Bunk proudly; “he am de greatest chief in de whole state; he’ll treat yo’ mighty well for fetching me ober to wisit him.”
 
How Bohunkus first gained the belief that his parent belonged to the native nobility of the Dark Continent is interesting of itself. When he was very small he was brought to Mr. Cecil Hartley, the well-to-do farmer who was a neighbor of Mr. Hamilton near Mootsport, by an aged negro who had been a slave in the South. He said the father of the urchin was the great chief Bohunkus Foozleum, who was at the head of a clan numbering thousands of warriors in Central Africa. The old man added that the Christian name of Bunk was Johnson, which, if a fact, is rather hard to understand. However, Bunk was turned over to the kind-hearted farmer and his wife, and was known as a bound boy, though the transfer was not accompanied by the usual legal steps.
 
The yarn of the old negro was repeated many times in the hearing of Bunk, and the Hartleys and Hamiltons often laughed over it. The[206] gravity they assumed when telling the story to Bunk naturally caused him to believe it, and again naturally he formed the resolution that whenever a chance offered he would visit that hazy country and make a call upon his royal parent. Hence his quickness to seize what looked like a golden opportunity.
 
“You must understand one thing from the start,” said the Professor impressively.
 
“Yas, sir.”
 
“If you enter my service there will be no turning back,—you must go with me to the end.”
 
“Dat soots me from de sole ob my head to de crown ob my foot. I doan’ keer if I neber come back; being chief among dem folks am a good deal better dan being lambasted and aboosed by white folks.”
 
“How long will it take you to get ready?”
 
“’Bout four seconds; all I’ve got to git am my coat and a few little tings dat am in my room up-stairs.”
 
“Get them then.”
 
Bunk sprang to his feet and was hurrying through the door of the hotel when the Professor called him back.
 
“You mustn’t tell anyone of this, especially young Hamilton.”
 
[207]“How am I gwine to tell him when he ain’t here to tell? We’ll be half way to Afriky afore he comes back.”
 
“You mustn’t write any letter and leave it here for him.”
 
“Neber thought ob doing dat,” replied Bunk, as he dived from sight and went up the stairs three steps at a time.
 
It was just there that Professor Morgan made his first mistake. It was true, as Bunk said, that he had no thought of leaving any message for his young friend, but since he had been forbidden to do so, the temptation to disobey was irresistible. Temporary resentment could not quench his affection for Harvey Hamilton.
 
“When he comes back and finds me gone, he’ll cry his eyes out; he’ll butt his head agin de wall and call on de hotel to fall down and mash him flat. Harv ain’t such a bad feller as some folks think.”
 
The result of all this was tha............