There was one other contestant, besides. He sat in a big touring-car which was drawn up among several other vehicles,—an odd, pale little fellow, all nerves and excitement. He lived in the great stone mansion on the hill, and he was not very well known in Oakwood yet. He seemed a very little boy to live in such a big house and to sit in such a big car.
“There are some dandy ones there,” he said to the burly chauffeur, who sat beside him.
“There’s none of ’em has flown acrost Lake Champlain, at all,” the loyal chauffeur answered. “Has there, Mister Arrnold?”
Harry, who sat on the long step of the car, looked up and laughed. He had gone about the field in his quiet way looking at the dainty little models, some of which were masterpieces of clever construction. He had handled Will Garret’s silver-painted flier and praised it. He had sized up the graceful monoplanes made under Mr. Carson’s competent direction. Then he had walked over to the auto and ruefully examined the little aeroplane that Penfield held. It was not very well finished. The sticks of the motor base were held together with the cap of a fountain pen, by way of a ferrule, and Harry recognized various other results of his own suggestions. The alarm works were bound rather far forward, and several strands of live, red elastic hung slack between the little striking bar and the propeller, which was in the rear. The clockwork power was communicated to the propeller by a flat-linked brass chain. This whole mechanism was mounted beneath two planes, monoplane fashion, thirty-eight inches long and ten inches in width.
Harry examined it closely. The fact is, he was anxious. He could not bear to think of Penfield’s disappointment, but he feared that, after all, this novel device would prove impracticable.
Suddenly, the Oakwood band, which had been playing, stopped and the voice of Billy Carter, the club’s gardener, rose above the buzz of conversation.
“Hurrah for Billy Carter!” shouted a dozen boys.
It took Billy a few minutes to down the testimonials to his own popularity, and then he made his announcement.
“The first contestant for the Oakwood News Aviation Cup is Henry Archer, flying model of Santos-Dumont’s monoplane, La Demoiselle.”
Archer stepped up to the chalk-line, winding his propeller. Holding his machine steady, and pointing it slightly upward, he sent it forward. It lurched and fluttered to the ground. He picked it up and disappeared into the laughing crowd. There was no need to measure his flight.