Dave sat so near to the airman that he had him in full view. He could catch his every word and movement.
“Just feeling the air,” yelled Mr. King. “She’s prime. Now then, slip that strap across your waist.”
“I shan’t fall out. I’m holding on tight,” yelled back Dave, his utterance coming in little gasping jerks.
“Never mind. Do as I say. That’s it. Now I’ll tell you something.”
“Yes, sir,” nodded Dave attentively.
“Start in the teeth of the wind, always. I’m feeling it now,” and the expert bent a cheek to one side. “It’s a ten mile zephyr. That’s easy.”
The aviator did no fancy or trick air sailing. He kept widening his circles and increasing his speed. With a swift movement he took a lateral dart over towards a hill, passed beyond it, made a sharp turn, and then another ascent.
Of a sudden there was a dip. The hand of the aviator moved quick as lightning to the mechanism controlling the elevator.
“Whew! we struck a hole that time,” he exclaimed.
“A hole?” repeated Dave vaguely.