“It must be those Prescott children. Ah!” he exclaimed, as the aeroplane alighted and came to a standstill, “it is! Dear me, what a century we are living in! Boys and girls flying about like—like—my chickens!”
He “clucked” reassuringly to the terrified birds as he hastened toward the now stationary machine. Roy and his sister came forward to greet the venerable old doctor as he approached.
Roy hastily explained their errand, being interrupted constantly by the physician’s exclamations of astonishment.
“Go back with you? Of course, I will, my children. Will one of you help me catch old Dobbin and harness him? My man Jake is in town to-day.”
“Oh, doctor,” cried Peggy, entreatingly, “can’t we persuade you to go back with us in the Golden Butterfly?”
“To fly! Good heavens!”
The aged physician threw up his hands at the idea.
“It is perfectly safe, sir,” put in Roy. “Safer than old Dobbin in his present frame of mind, I should imagine.”
They all had to laugh as they looked at the hitherto staid and sober equine careening about the pasture with his tail held high, and from time to time emitting shrill whinnies of terror at the sight of the strange thing which had landed in his domain.
“I don’t know, I really don’t,” hesitated Dr. Mays. “The very idea of an old man like me riding in an aeroplane. It’s—it’s––”