[CHAPTER XVI]
IN CAMP ON ANCLOTE KEY
To the surprise of the other boys, Mac’s frightened demur lasted only a few seconds. Then, as if steeling himself to mount the gallows, the barefooted, bewildered boy exclaimed:
“I call you—you’re on. I’m game.”
As a matter of fact, Tom was perhaps more apprehensive than Mac. But, one thing reassured him. The start would be over shoal water, in which, if they got a ducking, they would not dash out their brains. The spot where the aeroplane landed was comparatively soft. After a little search around the point, the beach was found to be harder, more like a cement floor, and considerably wider. To this point, the three boys trundled the airship like pushing a Gargantuan baby cab.
As Mac climbed aboard, he handed eight dollars to Bob.
“It’s all I have,” he said, without smiling—although, to tell the truth, neither was he nervous—“give it to my father if we don’t get back.”
“Not on your life,” exclaimed Tom. “That’s a Jonah sign—bad luck. Put that money back in your pocket.”
Bob was a little concerned over Tom’s initiation. But the moment, he saw the southern boy prime the cylinder cocks and grasp the levers, he knew that Tom had let nothing go unobserved. Again the engine started, the propeller began to hum and Tom sat with the wheels braked, waiting for sufficient momentum. Then the car wobbled, and Bob saw it was time to free the starting wheels.