He took the machine on a long, level course, over the safest country he could find—the sweep of tules in the marshes along the straits; and when he reached the athletic field, he brought her down as easily as possible. But even so, Pink Eye was pale and limp when he climbed out.
“Great work,” exclaimed Hike, before Pink Eye could say a word. “You took to the air great. You’re an aviator already.”
“Did I take it all right?” asked Pink Eye gratefully, enjoying the glances of envy from the crowd. “Thanks a hundred times, old Hike.”
And Hike knew that there was one member of the team, at least, who would not bother him by envy any longer.
Pink Eye was already explaining to his team-mates how much he had enjoyed the ride, and stating at length that the view of the tules, as seen from a monoplane at about seventy miles an hour, is very fine indeed. But the others were not very anxious to ride; not after having seen the monoplane come swooping down and hit the earth at over fifty miles an hour. Even Bill McDever, the captain—stolid Bill who never said much, and wasn’t much known, but was always the center of team-plays—seemed a little agitated, when he crawled in, as the next passenger.
Half of the team, didn’t want to ride, much, but they felt that they had to, or never be seen in those parts again! As each got out, there was the same hearty hand-shake from Hike, and the same thankful affection given Hike by his team-mates.
Perhaps it was because they were so surprised and delighted to get back alive, after roaring through the air, bumping on air-currents, and seeing houses look like dice beneath them, that they loved Hike exceedingly when they landed; or perhaps it was because they felt he wanted them to share in his glory, or because they respected him to the limit when they saw how he could run the dragon through the air as though he were riding a bicycle. Perhaps it was all three.
By late afternoon, Hike had given short trips to all of the team and subs. that were in sight. It was Football Day in aviation. Practise was called off. But he had to refuse the others—he even took Poodle for only a five-minute spin. However, there was one Sophomore whom he very much wanted to treat, and that was his dear, courteous friend Sea Lion Rogers (sometimes known as “Slimy” Rogers).
He had twice noticed Sea Lion, standing on the edge of the crowd, with his usual polite sneer. He whispered to Morrison, “Say Pink Eye, you know how Slimy Rogers has been kidding me? Would you mind getting him to come up and ask me a fool question—let him think you want to have me kidded. Then I’ll give him a happy little ride. Oh, thanks.”
Hike managed to look very much surprised when, after giving the last sub. a ride, he found Sea Lion edging up to the machine, and asking, in loud cheerful tones for the crowd to hear, “Oh say, Griffin, can you tell me what the angle of incidence is in this Poling-Tating machine?”