“I take it, stranger, that that contraption over there is one of them infarnal flying machines.”
“It is a flying machine, but there’s nothing infernal about it.”
“Folks hain’t no bus’ness to cavort round the country in them.”
“I don’t see why they haven’t; we are not injuring you or any one else.”
“Boys,” said the speaker, turning to his companions who were standing near and listening to the conversation; “the best thing we can do is to rip the blamed thing to slathers. What do you say?”
“Them’s our sentiments,” replied one while the three nodded.
“Come on then; it won’t take us long to make kindling wood of it.”
He took a step forward, and then stopped. Harvey had leveled the gun.
“The first one that lays a hand on my aeroplane must be prepared to have daylight let through him.”
It was a staggering threat, but in the trying moment, Harvey Hamilton could not help reflecting that the weapon was not only injured, but unloaded. He would be in a sorry situation should they learn the truth.