“Sure. The secretary of the aeronautic association wrote me that he had picked out for us one of the best on the grounds. It’s of heavy canvas over a wooden frame. They didn’t have time to put up all wooden ones.”
“Well, better speed up a little,” suggested Bob. “We don’t want to drop down on a strange ground after dusk. Hit it up a little, Jerry.”
The Comet was soon scudding along at a faster clip, when suddenly a little cry from Ned, who was in the pilot house brought Bob and Jerry to his side on the run.
“There’s the place!” he cried, pointing ahead.
They could see a broad level plateau on which could be made out many tents and hangars, gay with flags and bunting, while here and there the graceful biplanes or monoplanes were interspersed with the more bulky dirigible balloons.
“Say, there’s a lot of ’em all right!” exclaimed Bob.
“Yes, I guess it’s going to be a good meet,” assented Jerry.
“You better make the landing,” interposed Ned, motioning for the tall lad to take the steering wheel. “You’re more used to it than I am, and we want to make a good impression.”
“You fellows can do it as well as I,” declared Jerry. “The only thing is that you lack confidence. You must get used to it. However, I’ll take her down this time.”