“You sure are,” said several in the crowd who had heard the bargain Noddy had made.
“I wish I’d made him put his money up,” went on the fat man. “Come on now, Professor Nixon, or whatever your name is, fork over that hundred dollars. It will come in handy for me. That thing fly! It’ll never fly in a hundred years!” and he began to laugh, which further nettled Noddy.
“I’ll make it fly yet!” said the bully, gritting his teeth. “Something went wrong with the machinery.”
“I should say it did,” went on the fat man.
“It’ll need a lot of repairs before it will flop its wings again,” observed Andy Rush, who was in the front rank of spectators. Noddy heard him, and turned savagely on the little chap.
“You mind your own business!” he exploded. “If I catch you around my machine I’ll have you arrested. I believe you sneaked in and monkeyed with it so I couldn’t fly. I’ve a good notion to punch your head.”
“Better not try it,” advised Jerry quietly. “And you have no right to say Andy did anything to your machine. He was nowhere near it, except when we were with him.”
“Well, maybe you had a hand in it,” murmured Noddy. “You’re jealous of me, that’s what you are.”
“Here, you drop that kind of talk!” exclaimed Jerry, striding forward. “We know you, Noddy Nixon, and we know your crony, Bill Berry. If you don’t keep a civil tongue in your head we’ll see that you’re put out of this carnival. We never touched your crazy tin fly, and we’re not jealous of you. If we couldn’t get up a better airship than that we wouldn’t have any.”
“That ship is all right. All it needs is a little fixing,” went on Noddy, taking care to keep well away from Jerry.