“It’s most as good as goin’ to the fair,” chuckled his father.
Mrs. Camp gave a sigh of disappointment.
“You ain’t a goin’ to miss it, Mrs. Camp,” spoke up Bud promptly. “I’m goin’ to start back to town about twenty minutes of three o’clock. You be waitin’ out in the yard. I’ll sail right over the house. Don’t be scared if I come close to you. I’ll do it so you can see the airship.”
“I jes can’t nacherly believe it,” exclaimed the good-natured woman.
“And if you’ll let me, I’ll come back and stay with you again to-night,” added Bud. “That is, if you’ll let me pay for my board an’ lodgin’.”
“Pay?” exclaimed Mrs. Camp indignantly.
“Come on and quit your foolish talk,” added her husband.
A curious and laughable sight in his borrowed clothes, Bud, Josh and Mr. Camp set out for the lake.
“She’s right down among the cattails,” explained Josh. “An’ mighty nigh in the pond. You had a close call a gittin’ ducked.”
This was true, as Bud soon discovered. The day was fine, with only a light September haze in the air. Standing on the slope of the hill—which completely concealed the machine from a possible traveler on the wood road—Bud and the two Camps began speculating on the best way to approach the aeroplane. No one was anxious to plow through the deep mire of the swamp unless it was necessary. The solution was easy.