"It does look that way, for a fact," admitted the other. "Casper doesn't see any reason why he should bother changing his set course due north because he happens to pass a few towns away up here in the northern end of the State. Let the people stare all they want to. He's been used to having crowds gape at him, you know, and rather likes it. Besides, if he gets away, what does it matter?"
Andy prepared himself for the little job he had on hand.
As he had practiced throwing stones from the aeroplane while at a great height, just to see how near he could come to hitting a certain place far below, so as to ascertain what chance aviators would have of making bombs tell in war times, the boy believed he would be able to drop his message pretty accurately in some open place, close to where the townspeople were clustered. And seeing it fall, some one would be sure to hurry over to secure the mysterious object.
"Here goes our old broken wrench, which has been hanging around so long!" declared Andy, as, leaning carefully over, he measured distances with his eye, and suddenly let the object slip, taking care to make all allowances for their speed.
This is more of a trick than most boys would suppose. The next time you are on a speeding electric car throw a stone at a telegraph pole just as you are passing it, and see how much beyond the missile will alight, because of the momentum it received because of the fact of its starting from the moving car.
Andy had this pretty well figured out, and knew just when to launch his weighted message. He turned his head, and tried to follow it downward as well as he was able because of the fluttering white paper.
"It's going straight there, Frank, I do believe!" he exclaimed, as he managed to get the powerful glasses up to his eyes, and fairly followed the progress of the message, though quickly losing it again. "Yes, and the crowd there on the green must see it coming, because already a bunch of boys has started to jump that way. They'll find it easy enough, Frank. Now, what d'ye think of that for a successful bomb throw?"
"Good enough for you, Andy," was the hearty response. "And we'll have to take it as a sign that we're going to come out of this scrape as we generally do, with our colors flying."
Frank usually allowed himself to feel the fullest belief in his own abilities; at the same time he always wished to avoid over-confidence.
Again time passed on, and the hum of the busy motor was the only sound that came to the ears of the two young aviators. They were again making nearly full speed; though Andy felt pretty confident that, had it been necessary for Frank to coax an additional unit or two of "hurry" from the gallant little Kinkaid engine, it would respond to his efforts.