“Oh, he wanted to be different,” observed Bob.
“Well, he was,” commented Ned dryly.
The aeroplane was now resting on its runners upon the inclined track, which had been made very slippery with soap and grease, as are the ways when a ship is launched. Several men were detailed to give it a push when the inventor was ready to glide off.
But Professor Dundlass seemed in no hurry. He moved slowly about, looking at wires here, braces there, testing his propellers with his hand, looking at the rudder and putting some more oil on the motor.
“Oh, move the boat!” cried an impatient one.
“I go pretty soon quick now,” replied the inventor, speaking with a German accent. “But first I must be sure I am all rights. It iss no jokes to fall down from der clouds.”
“That’s right,” agreed the throng in a chorus, and thereafter no one urged him to hurry.
There was a big crowd down on the ground around the platform, and as many on that elevated place as could get upon it and still leave room for the aeroplane. The structure was about sixty feet high.
At last the professor announced that all was in readiness. There was not a little nervous feeling among those in the throng, for though some had seen balloon ascensions, this was different—to see a man trust himself to a machine that was much heavier than air.