“The girl will fetch some victuals in a few minutes,” he advised the boys upon his return. “Sort of enjoyable, eating here in the air. Big meet out in Chicago, I understand?”
“Yes, we are going there,” said Dave, and from then on he was kept busy answering the questions “fired” at him rapidly by their curious host.
“I declare! that’s an interesting trade of yours,” he said. “But here’s the victuals. Sort of out of reg’lar meal-time order, but you’ll find it all right, I hope.”
Hiram was very hungry, and ate the cold roast beef, biscuits and fried potatoes served in plentitude, with the keen appetite of a hungry boy. Dave, too, enjoyed the palatable lunch.
“I suppose it’s a great bracer to get away up in the air,” observed the farmer. “Through, youngsters?”
“No. I say!—Why, where is that?” suddenly ejaculated Hiram.
He had leaped up unceremoniously from the table, and advanced to the end of the porch.
“Hear that chugging, Dave?” he inquired, peering up into the sky. “There’s a machine somewhere aloft. Oh, here’s the screen door! I want to look. There she is!” he shouted, once out in the yard, and staring upwards. “Dave, it’s the Curtiss we thought was taking up our course!”
“Then they’ve made as good time as we have,” called back Dave. “What now?” for Hiram had uttered a new cry of excitement.
“Why, I say!” he shouted. “That’s strange! It’s suddenly vanished!”