The next instant, however, a roar of laughter went up at the boys’ expense.
What had been dropped was an orange. It struck the ground with a terrific splash, scattering juice and pulp in all directions. It was a little joke of the lieutenant’s, who frequently used oranges or eggs at bomb-dropping practice.
The relieved boys could hear his merry laugh as he sailed by, far above them, and rapidly soared higher in the air.
“Huh! Won’t get me that way again,” grunted Tubby, as, amid a roar of laughter, he picked up his rotund form and joined the others.
For half an hour or more the officer swooped and circled above them, appearing to delight in the exercise as much as a wheeling hawk on a summer’s day. Then he descended, and made a landing on the terrace as neatly as if he had just driven up in an automobile. Springs, geared to the pneumatic-tired wheels, broke the force of the landing, and, after one or two light bounces, the machine came to a standstill.
“Your turn,” cried the officer, laughing and turning to Rob as the machine, for the time being, terminated its flight.
He indicated a seat beside him, with an upright back and covered with dark-green padding. Rob did not hesitate, but stepped boldly forward. One of the soldiers offered him a pair of goggles, which he drew on. Then he climbed into the seat and gripped the side handles tightly.
“I’ll break the news to your folks,” howled Tubby, but the rest of his jocose remarks were drowned in the roar of the motor. The next instant they were off. Rob’s breath seemed to be forced backward down his throat by the rapidity of the motion. He gasped and choked, and hung onto his hand rails till the paint flaked off against his palms. The aeroplane, before it arose, seemed to act just like a bucking broncho. Its motions reminded Rob very much of the cayuse he had ridden at Harry Harkness’ ranch on that memorable morning when the cowpunchers gathered to see his battle with the broncho.
Suddenly, however, the see-saw motion changed to a delightful, gliding sensation. It felt like riding along upon the softest feather mattress in the world. They had left the ground and were actually flying. Rob’s heart gave a bound at the idea. He was certainly the first boy in the vicinity of Hampton to have such an experience. His first flash of fear had left him now, and he glanced at the officer seated beside him. Lieutenant Duvall’s face was calm and unperturbed, and Rob felt ashamed of the feeling of fright he had experienced before the machine took the air.
Up and up they rose. Once Rob looked down, but he didn’t do it any more. Somehow it made him feel pale and empty to realize that between his shoe soles and the ground lay a quarter of a mile of empty space.