Suddenly there was a flutter of white at the prow, a flash of a canvas plane, and the nose of the craft appeared to tilt upward.
“He’s done it!” cried Ned. “He’s got the rudder to work! Now he can save himself!”
“If it isn’t too late,” added Bob.
But Noddy proved himself to have some pluck, and he showed not a little knowledge of how to manage his machine. Quickly throwing up the forward plane, he sent his craft along on a slightly upward slant. This checked it almost like a brake, and, when he had considerably reduced the momentum, he shifted the rudder lines, and once more headed for the earth.
There was a cheer from the crowd, and our friends could not help joining in it, even though they had no love for Noddy or Bill.
“He’s all right now, if he keeps control of it,” spoke Jerry.
Whether Noddy did not keep control of it, or whether the experience through which he had just passed shook his nerves was not manifest, but as a matter of fact he came down to the ground on too short a slant, and without checking enough of his speed.
There was a splintering sound, a breaking of metal, and the bicycle wheels of the aeroplane collapsed under the sudden shock. Noddy and Bill were thrown out, but not hurt beyond a severe shaking up. Willing hands assisted them to rise.
“You had a lucky escape,” commented one man.