“Whew! That’s about all he does know. H’m! that was a narrow graze,” commented Bob, as the Torpedo nearly collided with a scudding biplane. “Some day that fellow will meet his Waterloo.”
After a spell the air began to clear of the exhibitors and their machines.
“Now we’ll give Mr. Davis a genuine thrill,” announced Bob. “Get ready, Ben.”
“I’m all ready, Bob.”
The young aviator brought the Flyer directly over the field. They were now on a one-thousand-foot level. Bob kept the machine directly over that part of the enclosure which he and Ben had plotted with their boxes early that morning.
Ben opened the bag in his lap.
“Fire at the warships!” ordered Bob.
“With oranges for bombs,” added Ben, displaying the fruit in his lap.
His words let out the secret of the designed exploit. Ben in his studies on aeronautics had found that the deepest scientific interest was evinced in the practicability of using airships in warfare.
What the boys had done that morning was to plot a space to represent the decks of warships. Each box commanded a radius of about three hundred feet. Bob set the motor at its swiftest, and as to height and variation of course followed imitated the probable cautious and expert manoeuvres of a real war airship evading the peril of rifle or cannon shots from a genuine enemy below.