The Aeroplane Boys Flight; Or, A Hydroplane Roundup

by John Luther Langworthy

"All right, Frank, just as you say," replied the other, accustomed to looking to his cousin for the words of command when an emergency or a crisis came along.

He fastened the precious glasses in their rigid case, where they would be safe so long as the aeroplane remained above the surface of the water, or did not fall to the ground in a serious wreck.

Then Andy paid attention to a number of small but very important matters that had always been given over into his charge at times like this. The Bird boys had been comrades so long that they worked together like a well oiled machine. The ball team that has played in company for a season can accomplish feats that would be utterly impossible to a nine that had been brought from various clubs, even though each player might have been a star in his respective team.

So it was with Frank and Andy; they had grown to know each other's points so well that when the moment came it often seemed as though they instinctively formed a single unit, with that exceedingly bright brain possessed by Frank doing all the piloting of the combination.

They were all ready for the business in hand long before the border of the big water was reached. Frank had looked around him several times, and his cousin seemed to know instinctively that he was endeavoring to decide as to whether the wind was apt to hold as it chanced to be at the time; or increase in velocity, should they drop to lower levels.

It was rather awe inspiring to see that vast gulf of glistening water stretching as far as the eye could reach in three directions, north, east and west. From the high altitude which they still occupied, they could not tell whether the lake was calm, or waves rolling along its surface. The westering sun glittered from its bosom as though it might be streaked with gold, and altogether it was a sight that neither of the boys would soon forget.

To Andy in particular it appealed with vigor. His nature was more inclined to worship at the shrine of the romantic than would be the case with the practical Frank. To Andy that vast sheet of water seemed mysterious, profound, filled with secrets of argosies that were launched on its breast centuries ago, when only the bark canoes of the red men had ever been wedded to its waters. In imagination the boy could even then see the barques of the early explorers, those bold men who had pushed thither from across the ocean, and risked their lives in order to learn what the New Country held for brave hearts.

Perhaps, had he still gripped the glass in his hands, and cared to look earthward before leaving the shore for that adventurous cruise, Andy might have seen many a group of wondering people all watching the flight of those hurrying ships of the upper air currents, and even waving hats and handkerchiefs in the endeavor to attract the attention of the bold navigators, whom they supposed to be engaged in a race for a wager.

But there was now no longer time for anything like this, and all their attention must be concentrated upon the one thing that meant so much to them—the safety of the delicate craft in which they were now about to entrust their very lives for a voyage, the like of which few airmen had ever entered before.

Already had the other aeroplane sailed away, and was even now hanging over the inland sea, that lay fully four thousand feet below, its further shore hidden in what seemed to be a cloud, though it might prove to be a rising fog, fated to engulf both pursuing and pursued air craft in its baffling folds, and turn the comedy of the race into a tragedy.