She also wanted her father to know she was in the fight with him every bit as much as the brothers. “We’ll never stop fighting now, Pop, until we’ve shown those rascals up.”
Soon she had more to contend with. Charlie Taylor, as she informed the brothers, was making her “too weary for words.” The man claimed to know everything about everything. “I despise to be at the mercy of the hired man.” Thankfully the school year had begun, her classes had resumed, and she was now making an unprecedented $25 a week.
Things would indeed turn out right for the Bishop in the end. Two years later, at a church conference in Grand Rapids, Michigan, in 1904, he would be completely exonerated by a two-thirds majority. Writing to a niece a few years later, the Bishop said of Millard Keiter, “His former friends have become convinced of his unworthy character, and he has gone to Tennessee as a timberland speculator.”
In all, the continuing worry and frustrations involved in defending the Bishop’s honor, the countless hours consumed, had brought the family closer together than ever, resolved to be ever wary of those of “unworthy character.”
III.
She would just have to get used to some of Charlie Taylor’s peculiarities, Orville told Katharine in his first letter to her since reaching Kitty Hawk, then went on to say the weather there was fine, that he and Wilbur had been assembling the machine and were nearly ready to start testing. He imagined, he said, that by the time she received the letter she would be back at school teaching again, and he asked her to send a list of her “victims.” “I like to see someone else catch it besides us.”
By the second week of September word from Kitty Hawk grew more extensive, as both brothers took time to fill her in with news of the kind she most liked to hear, no more trouble from the mosquitoes and that they were sprucing up their quarters at Kill Devil Hills with such “royal luxuries” as white oilcloth on the dining table and burlap upholstery on the dining chairs. Orville’s letters, which delighted Katharine especially, refute any idea that he had no gift for writing and express how much he did not want “little sister” to feel left out.
Most enjoyable to her was a rendition from Orville of an all-out pursuit of an uncommonly resourceful mouse that kept prowling about the kitchen and thereby provided the only excitement of the moment.
“He met with a rather warm reception the other night when he undertook to promenade on Will’s bed,” Orville began, “[and] got tossed a good deal . . . in a blanket, until finally he escaped.
We found him snugly wrapped up in our carpet this afternoon. We had a merry chase all about the building, inside and out. The large cracks in the floor making it easy for him to get in or out in a hurry when necessary. But as there were two of us, one with a stick and one with a gun, one above and one below the floor, his chances of escape were beginning to look rather shaky. Finally, he nestled up in a corner below the floor to take time to get a breath, when I blazed away at him with the gun. The mark of the bullet is in the corner right back of where he stood, nevertheless the little beastie turned around and calmly walked away and I in my astonishment just stood there and watched him go.
The standard of living at Kitty Hawk had been greatly enhanced. Damage done to the camp by storms in their absence had required immediate attention, but they also saw to considerably more. The kitchen was “immensely improved,” and they slept now in new, more comfortable beds rigged up in the rafters. They hammered up battens to seal off the cracks between the boards the whole length and width of the building. They had sunk a deeper well that produced better water. Best of all, they had devised a bicycle that ran far better over sand than they could have hoped for, so a round-trip to Kitty Hawk now took only one hour, instead of three on foot.
Little if any of what the brothers did went unnoticed by the local residents, who by now, as John T. Daniels said, had “learned to love ’em,” and in no small part because they “could do anything they put their hands to.
They built their own camp; they took an old carbide can and made a stove of it; they took a bicycle and geared the thing up so that they could ride it on the sand. They did their own cooking and washing and they were good cooks too.
“There are other improvements too numerous to mention, and no Huffaker and no mosquitoes,” Wilbur reported to George Spratt, who was to join them again.
This time, too, Orville was keeping far better day-to-day diary records of just how hard they were working.
Monday, September 8. Finally began work on machine. . . . Completed frame of upper surface [wing] ready for ribs.
Tuesday, September 9. Worked 8 hours on machine. Fastened ribs to frame and put on cloth.