Now, unfortunately, a wire fence separated the field from the road to prevent idle wandering people from trampling down the young wheat. It was no easy matter to crawl through the interstices of barbed wire, and Billie, in her haste, tore a great gaping hole in her automobile coat.
But she pulled off the wrap with the recklessness of a young person who has something far more interesting on hand than pongee coats, and flung it in the road where it was rescued by Miss Campbell.
In the middle of the field lay the flying machine, looking very much like an enormous kite at close range. But where was the human being who so lately had been mounting high into the air?
A man’s foot sticking out from the midst of the debris revealed him at last lying huddled up under the machine.
It was no simple matter to untangle him from the ruins, and it took all their strength and courage, too, with that face so white and still turned upward, but, by the grace of Providence, which watches over the lives of some rash beings, the young man was not even hurt. He was only stunned, and presently Miss Campbell, who had managed somehow to crawl through the fence, brought him back to life with her smelling salts.
“If I can only keep from sneezing,” he began, opening his eyes and blinking them in amazement when he beheld the faces of five ladies leaning over him in states of more or less extreme excitement.
The aeroplanist was really almost a boy and rather small. He had reddish brown hair and reddish brown eyes to match. His features were regular. His mouth firm and well modeled, and he had a square, determined-looking jaw.
“Oh,” he exclaimed. “Then it wasn’t a dream. I did sneeze.”
The girls privately thought his mind was wandering.
“You tumbled down out of the sky,” said Nancy.