“I think that’s a pretty raw deal, Mr. Elder, after what I’ve done. If any one gets that chance, I think I ought.”
“Did you want to go up in it?”
“Of course. I had no other idea, if the operator didn’t come. I was going to ask as soon as it was certain he couldn’t get here. I think I’ve had a pretty hard turn down.”
He was lying, and his indignation was largely assumed. But his jealousy of Bud made him desperate.
Mr. Elder was puzzled. He looked from one lad to the other.
“How about it, Bud?” he asked at last. “Looks as if you were sort of second fiddle, don’t it?”
Bud hesitated, wiped his hands on a bit of waste and then smiled.
“You didn’t say I could do it,” he answered at last, “though I’m ready to try. If you’d rather have Lafe, all right. I’ll help get her ready just the same. Don’t let me make any trouble.”
The fair official looked relieved. From a dearth of aviators, he now had an over supply of them.
“Maybe Judge Pennington won’t consent to your reskin’ your neck, Lafe,” he commented.