The air sail of about twenty minutes was completed and Mr. Dalken landed again upon terra firma. It was his first flight of any distance or height, and he had enjoyed it thoroughly. He was enthusiastic in his praise of the manner in which the ’plane had been handled by the experienced men.
But a sudden darkness swept over the sky and the natives were seen to scamper off for shelter, while the officers and aeronauts hastened their guests to the hangars until the squall of rain should be over. It fell just as it had fallen one day at Jamaica; it came down in torrents for a few minutes, then the sun shone forth again in dazzling brightness.
The girls were eager to get into the aeroplane and take their trip, but the pilot looked troubled and shook his head.
“What is the matter, Bill?” asked his companion.
“I don’t like the looks of the sky—we’re not through with the squall, I’m thinking.”
“I think it would be heaps of fun to be above the clouds when it rains down here,” ventured Eleanor, coaxingly, to Mr. Dalken.
“You wouldn’t say that if you ever went up while a tropical squall twisted the plane this way and that,” remarked Bob, who had heard her speech.
“I’m afraid we shall have to call it off for today, ladies,” announced the pilot, with evident regret in his tone.
“Well, then, we shall have all the more to look forward to to-morrow,” returned Polly, pleasantly, but Eleanor was annoyed at the delay.
“I don’t see why the nasty old weather had to come just now and spoil all the fun!” pouted she.