“A horse is all right, Aunt Belle. He never loses an engine or gets his wings ripped off,” Bob shouted, then added. “All set in the rumble seat, Jim!”
“Right-you-are.” Jim glanced at their passenger, assured himself that he was secure, then, opened her up, and they sped forward over the water, which was smooth as a sheet of glass. Mr. Fenton’s lips moved, but whatever he said was lost in the roar of the motor. He grabbed the edge of the seat as Her Highness lifted her nose eagerly, and he hung on grimly as she spiraled in wide curves over the lake. At a thousand feet the young pilot leveled her off and they roared swiftly south toward the State’s largest city. After about ten minutes, Mr. Fenton sat less rigidly. Jim picked up the speaking tube and handed the end to him, making motions how to use it.
“How do you like flying, Uncle Norman?” Mr. Fenton nodded and smiled. He didn’t feel quite equal to carrying on a conversation yet. Jim followed the lake, and as they were approaching their destination, he spoke again to his passenger. “If we land on the water will that be all right for you, can you get to your place easily?”
“Yes, the office isn’t far from the east shore.” Mr. Fenton felt like an old timer now. He was thoroughly enjoying himself.
“Ten minutes more,” Jim told him, and he nodded. Presently the pilot shut off the engine, and the man looked startled at the sudden silence. He glanced at Jim, who grinned reassuringly as he kicked the rudder about and brought Her Highness into a long glide toward the spot he had selected for the landing. The plane touched the water lightly, sped along a few yards and stopped beside a long pier.
“Are we here?” Mr. Fenton asked.
“Yes sir. How do you like air traveling?”
“It’s wonderful, but I did almost get heart failure when the motor stopped,” he admitted.
“Begun to wish you had brought your rubbers?”
“My rubbers and a boat.”