The boy looked at him and laughed.
“Probably not—now,” he remarked, “although the show’d be over then.”
“Try it,” snapped his father, “and that’ll be the last thing you’ll have to do with your Gitchie whatever-you-call-it.”
The next evening, which concluded the big day of the Stampede, twenty thousand people attended the long afternoon’s program. When the aeroplane appeared for its fourth flight, an army of people surrounded the starting field. Warned by his father, Norman made a less dangerous exhibit, but one that was on the whole more interesting to the eager spectators. Having given illustrations of many of the tricks of show aviators, including the roll and the banking of racing machines on short circular courses, he made a journey out over the hills until the aeroplane was lost to sight. The enthusiasm that greeted his reappearance and the approach of the machine like a bird through the blue haze of the endless prairies, stirred the crowd as the more dangerous maneuvers had not. Before reaching the inclosure, the monoplane climbed about four thousand feet into the air and then volplaned gracefully toward one of the large exhibition buildings just in the edge of the grounds. When it seemed as if Norman was about to smash the Gitchie Manitou against the big green-roofed building, even Roy started and held his breath. Then there was a quick spring upwards and, with the last momentum of the gliding monoplane, it lifted over the structure and settled upon the dust of the race track inclosure like a wide-winged bird.
When, escorted by ample police, the aeroplane had been wheeled into the aerodrome, the two boys immediately closed the doors and the officers dispersed the onlookers. It was late and there was not much trouble in doing this. When only a few persons were left in the vicinity, the doors were thrown open again and the car was trundled out to receive its after-flight examination. Norman, yet wearing his cap and jacket, had climbed into the cockpit to overhaul the rudder wires and engine valves; Roy was inspecting the body of the car, when the attention of both boys was attracted by a cheery salutation from a stranger.
“Good evening, young gentlemen,” exclaimed a man who was unmistakably from the States. “I’ve been trying to have a look at your machine but I’ve only just now succeeded in evading the police. I hope I’m not in the way?”
Since there were few persons about, the boys smiled.
“Glad to see you,” answered Roy. “Glad to see anyone if he comes alone. It’s only the mob that bothers us.”
The stranger smiled and lifted his hat in renewed greeting.
“I’ve been watching your flight to-day,” he went on, directing his remark to Norman, “and I judge it must require some nerve.”