Step by step the three chums had advanced until they now had planes with quite powerful rubber “motors,” if such they could be called. The “motors” of course, were just rubber bands or cords.
“Some day,” Teddy had declared, “we’ll get real miniature gasoline motors for our planes. Then they’ll fly miles and miles before they come down.”
“And we’ll have to walk after ’em to bring ’em back,” sighed Dick. He was too stout to care for much walking.
“Golly, it would be fun to have a gas motor model plane,” remarked Joe Denton as he put the final touches on his rubber-motored one. “They have some dandy ones in the Johnson cup races,” he added.
“Yes, and they have good prizes for rubber-motored planes,” announced Teddy. “Well, if you fellows are ready, let’s go to Mason’s meadow and see whose plane can fly farthest.”
“I guess you think yours can,” laughed Dick.
“Well, I’m not saying anything,” Teddy modestly remarked.
“No, but you’re doing a lot of thinking,” said Joe. “I know my plane won’t win,” he sighed. “There’s something wrong with it, I guess.”
“Maybe we can find out what it is in this race,” Teddy suggested, “and fix it.”
“Maybe,” agreed Joe, ruffling his red hair.