He started the motor again, twisted the steering wheel, and the legs began to kick out. The machine carried its inventor over the ground in a series of surprising leaps, but, though the wings flapped harder than before, there was no “flying” to it.
“Another freak,” murmured Jerry.
A man, sent from the committee in charge of the start, hurried up to announce that the repairs had been completed on the balloon which was the cause of the delay.
“Shall we go now?” asked Mr. Glassford.
“When you hear the pistol shot. It will be fired in five minutes.”
Those five minutes seemed the longest that ever a watch ticked off, but they finally passed. Mr. Glassford had stationed a man at the rope, a pull on which would release all the ballast bags at once.
Crack!
Through the curiously still air sounded the revolver shot. The crowd, every person in which seemed to be holding his breath, gave vent to a shout. Six great bodies leaped from the earth.
“They’re off!” yelled the throng, and then there came a perfect roar of cheers and applause that sounded like hail pattering on a tin roof.