“And you are doin’ this to try to get them to fix my property for me?” Bud asked, his lip quivering.
“Oh, I’m jes doin’ it—that’s all,” answered Mr. Camp. “Now, you set yer mind at ease. I ain’t askin’ no credit. I jes want to hear Cy Stockwell swear. That’s all.”
When two o’clock came that day, Josh and Mrs. Camp were on the fair-grounds. Instead of the somewhat stiff mill owner, one of the mill hands had been substituted as the motive power to start the spring wagon down hill. Mr. Camp, the two hands and Bud had safely conveyed the aeroplane through the wood road, up over the hill (knocking down two fences in the process) and the greased spring wagon stood like an Atlas with the waiting airship balanced on its body.
In all its history there had been no such attendance on the Scott County fair as poured through the gates on this Saturday. The story of what Bud had done had at last become public, and the entire town was alive with gossip and comment. The details became such a sensation and were so well known that it wasn’t “Goin’ out to the grounds?” that day. The morning salutation was, “Goin’ out to see Bud Wilson this afternoon?”
Lafe Pennington, now fully recovered, had been a spectator of Bud’s return and escape. He had the good taste to make no comment, but it was a sore trial to his pride. After Bud’s spectacular exhibition and flight the day before, President Elder, all smiles over his defeat of the enemy, was hastening from the judges’ stand when he espied Lafe.
“Hello, Lafe,” called out the jubilant official. Lafe wanted to escape, but he couldn’t. “Do you know what they’re all sayin’, Lafe?” continued Mr. Elder, edging up to the embarrassed bank clerk. “They’re talkin’ it around town that the old gypsy scared you. Folks say you were scar’t to run the airship.”
“Well, let ’em,” retorted Lafe. “Talk’s cheap. They’d be tellin’ another story if they knew the facts. It ain’t much to guide an aeroplane. But I’d like to see any one else in this town set one up and get it ready.”
“Well,” continued President Elder, “you can shut ’em up next week if you want to. If we get our dispute adjusted over the flyin’-machine, we got an offer to make an exhibition at the State Fair. It’s gone all over the state. Biggest thing any fair ever had.”
Lafe was visibly disturbed.
“How’d you like to try your hand up to the State Fair?” asked Mr. Elder, with pretended seriousness.