Seeing his interest and his quickness of comprehension, Holton, who was an enthusiast, pointed out the various parts, and at the end of half an hour the Yale man understood it thoroughly.
“I suppose you’d have to have some kind of a start to make an ascension from here, wouldn’t you?” he asked.
“All you’d need would be some one to loosen the anchor rope which I’ve tied to that tree over there, and give you a good, running shove,” Holton said. “Of course, you’d get your engine going first and the plane and horizontal rudder inclined properly. You see, with these light pneumatic wheels underneath, it’s no trouble at all for one man to give you the necessary starting velocity. Sometimes you don’t even need that, but can start yourself, especially if you’re on a slight incline. That’s the sort of place I usually try to pick out when I come down.”
He hesitated for an instant. He was plainly an enthusiastic aviator.
“I’d like to make a short ascension and show you how it works,” he said, “but I don’t dare to. That fellow doesn’t know I’m anywhere around, but if I went up now, he’d spot me in a minute and be on his guard.”
“Of course he would,” Dick agreed readily. “Perhaps, though, after you’ve nailed him, you’d be willing to give us an exhibition.”
“Sure thing,” Holton grinned. “Come out and see me to-morrow. Maybe there’ll be something doing by that time.”
“I will,” Merriwell returned promptly.
Then he turned to Buckhart.
“I guess we might as well be on our way, old fellow,” he said quietly. “Now that we’ve mastered the principles of flying, there’s nothing to keep us here. Good-by, Mr. Holton.”