"Took it easy," Andy explained to one pilot who started inquiries. And then, as though in reality he was trying to hide some defects which had developed: "We stopped two or three times, of course, to look her over, or we would have been back sooner."
The other pilot tried to hide a smile. Andy had succeeded beyond measure. Before noon they heard whisperings of the weaknesses their plane had developed while out.
But while this speculation was running the gamut of the aero field, the four youths were working with all the speed they knew how to expend, to get the machine gun mounted, store aboard the necessary fuel and oil for the long and hazardous trip, stock up with two days' provisions, and get their rounds of ammunition and other incidentals in place.
It was two o'clock that afternoon when Big Jack, with a final critical survey, announced everything complete.
Don went to the door and glanced out. There were not more than four or five persons in sight anywhere, and none of them near. It was instantly decided that the propitious moment was at hand. The four of them got behind the big plane, mounted upon its portable skids, and threw their weight against the well-balanced craft. But at that it was about all they could do to get it started, for in addition to its own weight, the plane carried four and a half tons of petrol, oil, ammunition, machine gun and rations.
Once started, however, the momentum made the job a comparatively easy one. Glancing sideways, they could see that one or two men had stopped at a distance to watch them. Apparently satisfied, however, that at most it was to be nothing more than another trial spin, they soon passed on.
The giant bird-like machine was now floating on her own pontoons on the surface of the none-too-smooth water.
"Ready?" asked Jack, curtly.
"All set," the quick answer came back.
"Then," said Big Jack, in steady measured tones, as he grasped the throttle which flyers know as the "joy stick", "we're off."