But if Mr. Graham's appearance was disappointing, his flight was all that their fancy had painted it and more. He mounted with apparent carelessness to his seat, and then the machine was pushed from the hangar to the beach. Leaving its beak in the water the helpers ran back and whirled its tail violently. A whir of remonstrance answered at once and the engine took up the complaint.
"There she goes! There she goes!" cried Roger and a hum of delight and wonder rose from the crowd.
Out into the water she swept, chugging noisily over the surface, her wings tipping gently from side to side as she sped. The people on the gallery of the Pier House cheered. Men waved their hats and women their hands.
"She's going up! See her rise?" they cried once more as the big bird's beak turned upward and the body followed with a swiftness that took the whole machine into the air while the spectators were guessing how long she would drag before she felt the wind under her wings.
And then, southward, straight southward, she flew, rising, ever rising until she was high in air and but a spot in the distance. Not until the spot had disappeared did the crowd breathe naturally.
"That's the most marvellous sight I ever saw!"
"I wonder how it feels."
"Wouldn't you like to try it?"
Then came a cry of "Here she comes back!" and in an incredibly short time, the engine's buzz once more struck their waiting ears. As he approached Chautauqua the airman sank lower and lower, until he looked like a mammoth bird darting toward one shore and then the other, swooping down to catch an insect, and rising again until the rays of the sinking sun glistened on his wings.
The Mortons were not the only Chautauquans who were eager to know if Mr. Graham was going to take up passengers. Never did he make a flight that he was not beset by would-be fliers urging their company upon him. Roger hung about with desire in his heart, but he never spoke to the aviator about it because he had seen so many grown men refused that he knew there was no chance for a boy.