“Right in my lap.”
“Have it ready.”
“There goes the opening gun for the beginning of the endurance tests on the spiral trials.”
“We’ll do our own stunt on that after the crowd get through,” advised Bob. “We’ll just do a bit of floating for the present.”
Ben had never been so happy and elated in his life. It was a glorious experience, that of the ensuing sixty minutes. The atmosphere was just right for safe sailing. There were no sudden gusts of air, no strong cross currents. Bob kept the Flyer on a course of magnificent long sweeps, several times circling the aviation field.
Thus it was easy for both boys to become comfortable spectators of what was going on, surveying the various airships in all their spectacular manoeuvres from a superior height.
“A regular private box party, aren’t we?” chuckled Bob.
“It’s wonderful,” assented his entranced companion. “There goes the Torpedo.”
“Yes, and that Dick Farrell is aboard.”
“He knows how to whiz.”