“Which will be as bad as if you didn’t do it. If we can reach the end of the lake before he returns we’ll begin our hunt without more delay, but—”
“By George! Yonder he comes!”
“Quick! Get out your fishing line; I always carry mine.”
Dick dropped the paddle in the bottom of the canoe and in a twinkling had flung the sinker into the crystalline water. It took Harvey a little longer, but he did it, with a number of seconds to spare. They could well affect not to be aware of the aerocar, though it was sailing low down, since it moved silently, and true fishermen are always absorbed in the work, or rather pleasure, of trying to woo a bite from the finny inhabitants below the surface. Neither seemed to look up, but none the less they kept a stealthy watch for the monoplane in which they were interested.
Professor Morgan gave a thrilling exhibition of his machine’s capability and his skill in handling it. He made a sweeping curve which took him past the fishermen, swooping gracefully to the right and to the left at a height of less than a hundred feet. When he was nearest them he shouted:
“Hello, there! What are you doing?”
Harvey Hamilton just then was excitedly pulling at his line as if he had a bite and was more anxious to land his catch than to do anything else. Dick suspended his occupation and looked up.
“Can’t you see we are fishing?” was his fitting reply in the form of a question.
“You are watching me,” insisted the aviator, as he made another circle and came nearer.
“What do we care about you? You are scaring away the fish; I wish you would clear out and leave us alone.”