“Say, you don’t mean to tell me that it was all an accident?” Andy asked, his face growing grave again.
“It certainly was, so far as I know. I never intended to cut off the power. The engine simply stopped dead. And I knew that we would come down with a bump unless I did something that I’ve seen aviators do many the time. In a little way that was what they call volplaning, Andy.”
“Gee! I bet those two guys stared like their eyes would jump out. That’s something they haven’t dared try yet, bold as they are,” observed the other, looking up toward the biplane, which had wheeled and was coming back.
“And I wouldn’t have dared either,” laughed Frank; “only it was a case of have to with me. But now that it’s over I’m glad it happened, for I’ve learned something that’s going to be pretty valuable to us from now on. We can always alight that way. But I’ll be sorry if our dandy little engine has gone back on us.”
He bent over to examine and immediately uttered a snort.
“Found something?” asked Andy, while the other two boys drew alongside and the limping colonel drew rapidly near.
“A fool play on my part, after all. The power is shut off! I must have done it accidentally when I turned a trifle to watch the biplane.”
Andy threw the propeller gears into neutral and then started the engine. It began working with an earnestness that was charming.
“That’s one on me,” said Frank. “And I give you my word I’ll fix it so that it can never happen again.”
“There comes the biplane bothering around,” said Andy, who seemed to have conceived a sudden violent dislike for the other aeroplane.