“Oh, it’s somewhere around,” and Jerry pulled it, all crumpled up, from his trousers pocket.
“What makes you think so much of this cup?” asked Ned.
“Because we’ve won it against some of the best birdmen in the world, and against some of the speediest machines. You must remember that our craft isn’t primarily a racer. The Comet is more like a touring auto—built for pleasure, and since we put on the hydroplanes it’s considerably heavier than it was. This is the first race we’ve won since we attached them, and it goes to show that we’ve got a fine and powerful motor. That’s why I’m so proud of this cup.”
“Aren’t you going to try for the elevation prize?” inquired Bob.
“Sure, but as I said I prefer distance racing. Now we’ll look to see what the trouble was.”
“And I’ll take care of this thousand-spot,” added Ned, as he carefully put the bill in his pocketbook. “You’d use it to clean a brass pipe with, Jerry.”
It was found that a broken wire in the ignition system was responsible for the stopping of the motor, and the defect was soon remedied. While the boys were at this, a message came from the secretary, asking them if they would not oblige the big crowd by doing some special stunts late that afternoon, following the regular events. These latter included some monoplane flights, and some qualifying ascensions by men who wanted to get a pilot’s license.
“Shall we do it?” asked Jerry of his chums.
“Might as well,” replied Ned, and word to that effect was sent to the secretary.
“We ought to take the professor along if we’re going to give an exhibition,” remarked Bob a little later. “The Comet goes better with four aboard, especially when we’re doing stunts.”