“And now,” he added, “I want you to take a ride with me.”
They shrank back in dismay and shook their heads.
“I wouldn’t do it for worlds!” gasped Aunty, and the awful thought caused her niece to whirl on her heel and plunge through the door into the house. A minute later she emerged again and hesitatingly approached the others.
“Nothing could make me expose you to the least danger,” said Harvey soothingly; “I have ridden hundreds of miles in this and never been hurt; I know better how to handle it than ever before; it is in the best condition and you need not have the slightest fear.”
The result of his persistent persuasion was that the two consented to the venture which a half hour before they would not have faced for a fortune. He explained that they had only to sit still, after he had adjusted their seats so as to balance right, lightly grasp the rods at their side, and then fancy that the long-reaching arms were their own wings and they were two innocent birds coursing through the upper regions. Just as everything was ready, Ann was seized with sudden panic and would have leaped out, had not her relative caught her arm and sternly ordered her to keep her seat.
When, in response to the whirl of the propeller the machine began gliding down the slope, the girl screamed and her aunt had again to check her. Harvey sprang nimbly to his place and at the proper moment pointed the front rudder upward, and the aeroplane left the earth and soared into the heavens. The load being greater than usual he kept the propeller at its highest speed.
The young aviator proceeded on the principle of trying to kill two birds with one stone. He could give his friends the treat of their lives, but in doing so, he steered toward the point where he had first caught sight of the monoplane on its last return from the north. He had become so used to running the machine that he felt free to inspect the country while gliding over it. Before starting he had fixed the salient points in his mind,—the lofty peak to the westward, the endless stretch of wilderness, the villages and towns in the distance, the few scattered cabins, the ridge to the rear, the rushing, tumbling streams, and the lake a little way ahead and to his right. Scattered here and there were signs of life as shown by more than one canoe, gliding over the smooth waters, or paddled up the current or floating down it, with the fingers of vapor pointing skyward from the depths of the forests where parties of tourists or campers were gathered beneath. It was the glad summer time, and the visitors to the Adirondack region were numbered by the thousands. The open season was not much more than a month off when the hunters would shoot one another in the ardor of their pursuit of big game, with an occasional deer thrown in as a counterpoise to their mistakes.
With some misgiving as to how his passengers would stand what was certainly an ordeal, Harvey looked around at them. Each was tightly grasping the support at her side, and they sat as rigid as statues, their faces pale, but the glow of their eyes showing how entranced they were with the flight and how keen was their enjoyment of it. When Ann’s eyes met those of her friend, she shook her head and tried to smile, but did not make much of a success of it. Exalted as were her emotions when she gazed down at the wonderfully picturesque landscape sweeping past, she longed to feel it once more under her feet.
Harvey did not overdo matters. He flew ten or twelve miles, which he was sure took him to the point in his mind. He peered below but saw only trees, masses of rocks and a small waterfall, but no sign of life.
“Now if Bunk is down there, as I believe he is, he ought to notice this biplane. Likely he is looking at me this very minute.”