“Say, Teddy, you don’t think, that these planes of ours will fly from the middle of Mason’s meadow away over to the woods on the far side, do you?”
“I don’t know about your plane, but mine will,” stated Teddy confidently. “I’m not so sure,” he went on, as he carefully tested the tautness of the stretched rubber bands, “I’m not so sure but what we had better go down to the lake beach. There’s a longer stretch to fly from down there. But of course the wind is wrong. The planes would have to go over the water.”
“And since mine doesn’t happen to be a hydroplane, I’m not for that,” declared Dick. “But you make me laugh when you say your plane will go all the way across Mason’s meadow and into the woods.”
“I don’t want my plane to go into the woods,” spoke Teddy calmly. “But I’m pretty sure it will if I let it have all the power I can give it. I didn’t wind it up as tight as I could.”
“Well, if your plane is as good as you think it is, why don’t you enter it in the races for the Johnson cup?” asked Dick.
“Maybe I will,” Teddy answered as he made another adjustment to his craft’s rudders.
“Say, don’t you know that only the very best planes go in that contest this September?” asked Dick. “Your little one wouldn’t have a chance!”
“Maybe it would,” spoke Teddy. “We’ll know more after we have our own little race today down in Mason’s meadow. Did you see anything of Joe?”
“I passed his house on my way here,” Dick answered. “He was doing something to his plane and said he’d be right over. We can wait. I’ve got to fix my rudder a little.”
“And I think I’ll take off one of my rubber bands and put on another,” Teddy remarked. “One of ’em looks a little bit frayed. I don’t want my plane to slow up.”