A great crowd had assembled, for, somehow, word had gone forth that the motorship was to make a flight. Most of the men—for there were only a few women—were openly incredulous. As the craft was wheeled from the shed a lad in the throng cried:
“Watch ’em sail—not!”
“They’ll never get that off the ground!” declared several.
“That’s right. She’s too heavy. Might as well try to go above the clouds in a wash-tub, or a pair of rubber boots.”
Indeed the Comet did look rather big and heavy, but the crowd did not know the power that lay in the great propellers, or in the lifting gas.
Jerry and his chums went carefully over every bit of machinery. The two Westerners were in their places, a trifle anxious. Professor Snodgrass had been induced to give up his bug-hunting long enough to go aboard for the trial.
The scientist was now in the main cabin, calmly making notes about his captures, as oblivious of his surroundings and the curious throng in the field, as if he was in his library at home.
“All ready?” asked Jerry of Ned, taking his place in the pilot house.
“All ready,” was the low answer.
“Then let her go!”