“Hooray!” shouted the crowd.
“They’re off!” shouted others.
And then, a minute later:
“Look! They’re going up!”
“So they are!” cried the spectators, as if there was any room for doubt about the matter.
The light Firefly was first, by the fraction of a second, to point her sharp nose up toward the tranquil blue dome of the sky. But the Sea Eagle was not tardy in following.
“Come on!” shouted Mr. Studley, casting a swift glance back over his shoulder at his large comrade of the air. He appeared to think that he would have little difficulty in distancing the huge machine.
“We haven’t begun yet!” cried Dr. Perkins back to him, with an answering wave of the hand.
Nor was the Sea Eagle as yet making a quarter of the speed she was capable of. On account of her great weight, and general size of her wing spread, it was not advisable to “open everything up” at once when she made an ascent from the land.
The Firefly darted ahead like some creature that rejoiced to be sporting in its element. But close behind came a roar and whirr as Frank let out another notch on the Sea Eagle. Up and up they flew, while the crowd below dwindled to pigmies, and the houses looked like so many toy Noah’s Arks. It was plain enough that Mr. Studley was engaged in a good-natured effort to show his friend that the Firefly was an infinitely faster craft than her cumbersome rival. He darted this way and that, making spirals and doing rocking-chair evolutions with the perfection of aërial grace.