Several hours passed away. The engine was now complete, and Frank had even given it a trial spin. The sound of its humming was pleasant music in the ears of these aeroplane boys, for they had a severe case of the up-to-date disease. Andy came by his naturally, inheriting it from his father; but with Frank it was acquired from his reading, backed by a desire to see strange places of the great world, hitherto inaccessible to ordinary travelers.
“Say, that’s great!” cried Andy, as he stood and watched the easy play of the lightest little engine ever invented.
“Works like a charm,” said the proud Frank, standing there, adjusting the automatic oiler, ready to drop a little lubricant wherever the friction came sharpest. “And even now I’ve only got half the power turned on. Tomorrow we’ll place the bicycle wheels under the framework; or if we happen to feel like it, that might be done tonight.”
“Tonight?” echoed the other. “Sounds like you expected to camp out alongside the little charmer.”
Frank turned upon him, and his dark eyes gleamed as he replied.
“And that’s just what we’re going to do, my boy—stick by our machine day and night until we make our first flight. I’d never feel safe in bed after seeing how easy it would be for those savages to injure her. What if they were mean enough to file partly through a wire support of the planes, and we never noticed it? It would hold out till we put extra pressure on it, and that might be five hundred feet up in the air. No, one of us must be here all the time!”
“You’re right, Frank. I’ll bring over blankets from the house, and we can just bunk out here. Won’t be the first time either that we’ve kept house together, not by a long shot. But you figured that card business down fine. Only wish you would turn that genius on the puzzle that’s bothering me.”
“Oh! rats. Suppose you let that thing sleep for a while, Andy. You said yourself you’d be sure to remember some minute what you did with the wrench. Now, let’s figure how we’re going to get any grub while here.”
CHAPTER IV.
A MIDNIGHT ALARM.
“I tell you what,” suggested Andy; “let’s cook our supper here. What’s to hinder, when we’ve got a stove handy, and there’s no great amount of gasolene around? I’m just hungry enough to want to see you throw things about and wrestle with a regular camp dinner. What say, Frank?”