“Busy,” cried out Bud. “See you to-morrow. Can’t stop to-day.”
“You’re under arrest,” shouted Attorney Stockwell.
The temptation was too great. Without answering, Bud gave the horizontal rudder a slight turn, and the speeding car shot at the deputy’s wobbling form.
“Grab him,” shouted the lawyer, as the car dropped.
Spurred on by the jeers and hoots of the thousands watching the strange contest, the county officer made a feeble effort to respond. As he threw his body up in a half-hearted effort to catch the car, now just overhead, the aeroplane sprang up once more.
“Good-bye,” shouted Bud, “you’re too slow. See you later.”
Deputy Pusey balanced himself for a second, and then tumbled forward between the foam-flecked horse and the light buggy. A dozen men grabbed the bridle of the horse, and the lawyer, with an effort pulled the deputy into the buggy.
As the machine sped by the judges’ stand, Bud heard a voice:
“Good boy, Bud,” it sounded jubilantly.
Bud glanced quickly, and saw President Elder, Superintendent Perry, and a crowd of other laughing and excited fair officials.