"If Andy was here, he would surely want to go with us," declared Jack to Mark. "Andy Sudds isn't afraid of anything."
"My! my!" cried Washington. "Yo' don't fo' one moment suppose, Massa Jack, dat I's afeared; does yo'?" "No, you're not afraid, Wash," returned Jack, chuckling. "You're only scared to death. But you go ahead and hunt your rooster. See that you keep him from flying too high, however, or we'll run him down in the Snowbird."
"Pshaw!" said Mark. "That rooster is so fat he couldn't fly high, anyway."
"And perhaps the Snowbird won't fly very high; eh?" retorted Jack, letting a little anxiety creep into his voice.
"But dat rooster suah kin fly high," said Washington White, eagerly.
"Yo' gemmens knows dat he's flowed as high as de moon—he, he!"
"And 'flowed' is a mighty good word, Wash," chuckled Jack. "Ah! here is the professor, Mark."
Professor Henderson was an aged man with snow white hair and beard. Although he was not physically as strong as he once was, his brain and energy were not in the least impaired by advancing years. He had taken the two lads, Jack Darrow and Mark Sampson, both orphans, under his care some years before, and under his tuition and by his aid they were much farther advanced in knowledge of the practical sciences than other boys of their age.
The professor welcomed them cordially and at their request gave a thorough scrutiny to the various mechanical contrivances that went to the make-up of the flying machine. He pronounced it, as far as could be known before a practical test, a perfect mechanism.
"And we will try it to-morrow morning, boys," he said, with almost as much enthusiasm as Jack and Mark themselves displayed. "You have completed the machine in excellent time, and I 'un likewise ready to make the experiment."
"What experiment, Professor?" asked the boys in chorus.