A few moments later Jacques was in the driver's seat and Leon and Earl had taken their places on board. Every boy was dressed in a heavy coat and an aviator's hood, with protection for the ears and face; warm gloves were on their hands, for it promised to be biting cold in the high air that day.
The top rim of the sun was just appearing over the edge of the trees as Jacques pressed the button which set the self-starter whirring. The engine roared and the pilot listened intently for any sound of defect to come to his well-trained ear. An aviator must know by the sound just what is wrong with his motor; there is no chance to search for the cause of the trouble when you are a mile or two above ground.
Apparently Jacques was satisfied for he throttled the motor down until it merely purred. "All ready?" he demanded.
"Got your dispatches, have you?" asked Leon.
"Yes," said Jacques, feeling of his breast pocket.
"I guess we're off then," cried Leon eagerly. "Let 'er go."
The monoplane began to move forward slowly. The little knot of men gathered around called good-bys as the great mechanical bird ran out across the field. Faster and faster it went; finally Jacques pulled a lever and gracefully and easily it rose from the ground. Up, up, up it soared, swiftly and steadily.
"Say," almost shouted Earl, "this is wonderful. I've never been in an aeroplane before, you know."
"Well you keep your eye out for other machines and for people shooting at us from below," advised Leon. "That's your job and mine."
"It's such a wonderful sensation flying like this," cried Earl. "Just look down below us there. The roads look like white ribbons and the trees like bouquets. Don't the houses seem small?"