“It don’t look very strong to me,” remarked Mrs. Anderson. “Where do you hitch on the wings?”
In explaining that the wings were the two planes, Andy grew verbose and was soon expatiating, for the first time, on the magnificent possibilities of the apparatus.
“Then you let it up with a rope,” suggested Mrs. Anderson, upon whom, to tell the truth, a good part of Andy’s technical talk was wasted.
Both Andy and Captain Anderson laughed.
“I wish we could,” exclaimed the captain, “but I’m afraid we’ll have to sail it without a rope. It works just like a boat—but in the air,” he explained.
“But who guides it?” persisted his wife.
“Who? Why, there must be an operator. I supposed you knew that—”
“I knew that much about it,” interrupted Mrs. Leighton, with a half patronizing smile. “I’ve just been waiting for Andrew to offer to do it.”
There was an awkward silence. The captain puckered his lips, and Andy grew white about the mouth. Someone had to say something.
“And what if I did?” said the boy, at last, his fingers gripped and his breath partly suppressed.