So, having no words to express his disgust, he dodged into the shed again, and Frank heard him throwing things around at a great rate, as he once more tried to get some trace of the mysterious missing tool.
Noon came at last.
The biplane had descended some little time before and apparently with success, from what Frank, who was watching eagerly, could judge.
“Puss is getting a good grip,” he said. “I can see a big difference already in the way he manages. And that is what every air pilot must have—experience with all kinds of conditions.”
“Even when the wind blows!” suggested Andy, a bit maliciously.
“Sure, after he learns his business some,” replied Frank. “And now let’s get lunch over with as soon as possible. Then we will be in condition to make our ascent when the conditions are right. You go in first, Andy. My people will think I’ve taken up boarding with you over here, I reckon; it’s so long since I’ve eaten a meal at home. But you’ve got a boss cook, all right.”
At one o’clock both of them had finished the midday meal. Colonel Josiah, having learned that there was a good chance of a flight that afternoon, had hobbled out to the “aviation field,” as he was pleased to call his property now.
“Wouldn’t miss it for a big lot, lads,” he remarked, as they got him a box to sit down on where he could see everything that took place.
“There’s that biplane bobbing up again away over yonder, colonel,” remarked Frank, about half an hour later.
Of course, the old veteran was intensely interested in the movements of the rival machine. He could not help admire it, even though loyal to the workmanship of his two boys.