The planes of the air circus were wheeling overhead and they left the beach and started for the air field. The attractions along the midway were gathering their share of the crowd and the mechanical band on the merry-go-round blared with great gusto. The ferris wheel was swinging cars loaded with celebrators into the tree-tops and the whip and other thrill rides were crowded.
Beyond the midway was the large pasture which had been turned into a landing field. A sturdy wire fence had been thrown across the side toward the summer resort and it was necessary to have a pass or ticket to get through the gate.
Two small stunt planes were taking off when the members of the Herald staff arrived and the three large cabin planes were being filled with passengers. Two of the planes carried eight passengers apiece while the largest, a tri-motor, could accommodate 12. They were sturdy, comfortable looking craft and Helen noticed that they appeared to be in the best possible condition.
They presented their passes at the gate and were admitted to the field.
“Speed” Rand, hurrying along toward the largest plane, caught sight of them.
“Want to ride?” he called.
The answer was unanimous and affirmative.
A minute later they were seated in the 12-passenger plane in comfortable wicker chairs. The door was closed, the motors roared, they bumped over the pasture and then floated away on magic wings.
The ground dropped away from them; the resort and the lake were miniatures bordered by the rich, green lands of the valley and at the far end of the lake, Rolfe, a handful of houses, basked.
It was glorious, thrilling, and Helen enjoyed every minute. They swung over the lake where the speedboats were cutting white swaths through the water. They did not cross to the east side and Helen guessed that the pilots were afraid some passenger with unusually keen eyes might detect the remains of the plane Rand had damaged that morning.