They seemed to be alone in the great flat world of green fields. To the right and left of them stretched level fields now cultivated and yielding great crops of corn and wheat. Less than a hundred years ago what would those travelers in lumbering wagons across the prairies have thought if they had seen such a bird flying overhead?
On sailed the flying machine, like a huge dragon fly above them. In the clear atmosphere which is peculiar to this prairie region they could plainly see a human being riding it. Then, the birdman, as if he were not already high enough to see the whole world stretched out beneath him, began slowly to rise in the blue ether like a skylark at dawn. Up, up he went, until he was merely a black speck in the heavens.
Miss Campbell sat flat down at the side of the road.
“I can’t endure it,” she cried. “Suppose he should never come back.”
“What goes up must come down,” observed Mary in a low voice much too excited to speak naturally.
Immediately fulfilling her prophetic remark, the flying machine sailed back into view. It was some distance beyond them now, but even so far they could hear the clicking noise which was all the more accentuated because no other sound followed. The motor had ceased to whir. They saw the aeroplanist fumble frantically with the machinery, then suddenly, with a twist of its body that was almost swifter than the eye, the flying machine turned its nose earthward and shot straight down.
“Is that the way he lands?” demanded Miss Campbell.
“No, no,” answered Billie excitedly as she hastened to crank the machine. “Get in quickly—everybody! Something must be broken. He may be hurt.”
Another moment they were tearing down the road toward the field where they had seen the flying machine drop.
“There he is,” cried Nancy, already on the step of the Comet as Billie drew up at the side of the road.