“The finest ever,” replied the pilot of the craft, shortly, for he did not mean to have his attention diverted from his business thus early in the game.
Later on, when sailing the monoplane became second nature to them, doubtless they could take their eyes off the front of the machine and look around.
Frank remembered his experience in learning to ride a bicycle, and he believed he was even now passing through just such a similar episode. It seemed as though the slightest movement on the part of either Andy or himself caused the delicate airship to wobble frightfully, so that his heart stood still with dread. But by degrees he found that it instantly righted. And the faster they moved through space the less chance there seemed to be of these eccentric antics.
They had already made two complete circuits of the field. Frank now managed to actually tear his eyes away from his wheel and the fore part of the aeroplane long enough to shoot a glance downward.
How strange things looked, although they were but such a short distance up! And how queer the earth must appear to a flier who sails thousands of feet aloft, with the rivers and hills marked below him as on a map!
“There comes the biplane again!” remarked Andy, in some excitement.
Frank took the alarm at once.
“Keep quiet!” he urged. “Don’t twist your neck around so, Andy! And even if they do come, we want nothing to do with them today. This is no time for racing or any monkey-shines.”
“Or monkey wrenches, either,” complained the other, instantly. “But they’re headed this way, all right, Frank. They mean to watch and see what we do.”
“Let ’em,” replied Frank, promptly, as he continued to keep the monoplane curving in that one big circle. “The air is free to all, and so long as they let us alone you bet I’m not aching to bother with them. Now keep quiet, can’t you?”