"But all the same we didn't, Frank," the other went on, jubilantly; for now that this peril was of the past Andy could be his old self again.
"And they did just as well," remarked Frank, always ready to give credit, even though it might be to a rival, for his nature was generous to a fault.
"Well, that biplane was easier to manage than our hydroplane, with the pontoons underneath," Andy went on to say, grudgingly; for no one could ever convince him that Frank had his superior as an air pilot; and he would sooner go up to a record height of fifteen thousand feet in company with his cousin, than accompany the most famous man living.
"It looks like we might be booked for Canada, Frank," he went on to say, a minute later, after they had fallen into the new "stride" comfortably, and were rushing forward on a level stretch, with the surface of the lake close at hand.
"I shouldn't wonder," came the noncommital reply.
Now, Andy knew his cousin like a book. Perhaps it was something in the words; or on the other hand there may have been an undercurrent of doubt in the way Frank spoke, that aroused the other's suspicion.
"What is it, Frank?" he demanded, "for I reckon you see something that is all a blank to me? Take me in, won't you?"
"Oh! I was wondering what would happen if they had an accident away out on the lake, that's all," admitted the other.
"Well, in that event I guess it'd be up to the Bird boys to play the rescuer act for all it was worth. But Frank, do you think this new machine of ours could climb up off the water with four aboard? Wouldn't that be the limit?"
"To tell you the truth, Andy, I don't know, because we've never had the chance to try it out. With only two of us aboard you know how easy she climbed; three passengers she could hoist, but four might faze her. We can only wait and see, if ever the chance comes to make the test."