Andy had evidently been pumping him for all he was worth, because just as Frank arrived the newcomer was saying:
“Why, yes; they did come down with something of a bump, but nobody was hurt, and Puss said he’d know how better next time. She’s a dandy, too, boys, I tell you. Of course, not any finer looking than the one you’ve got here, but built along entirely different lines. Ginger! I’d be tempted to go into this flying business myself, only I’m afraid the pace would be a little too hot for me.”
Those who knew Elephant’s slow ways and habits of procrastination would have certainly agreed with him. He could never keep up with the procession. Aviators must necessarily be built on the order of athletes, for their very lives may depend on instantaneous action and speedy thought that springs from intuition. It is not the profession for a lazy or clumsy individual.
Soon the two were hard at work, with Elephant looking on, crouched in his favorite attitude of sitting on his haunches and encircling his knees with both arms.
The talk, of course, soon turned upon the great race of such aircraft as had been fashioned by enterprising sons of Bloomsbury.
“It’s going to be a pretty race,” ventured Elephant.
“Huh!” grunted Andy, without looking up, “that remains to be seen. I’ve got a hunch right now that it will be a clean walkaway; if a fellow can say that about an aeroplane that makes circles around another aircraft.”
“I was just thinking, Andy,” continued the other, reflectively and soberly, as if he really meant every word, “that when you do make that landing up on the little plateau crowning Old Thunder Top, you can satisfy yourself of one thing anyhow.”
Andy did raise his head at that.
“Now, what in the dickens do you mean, Elephant?” he asked.