“Jump in and I’ll show you, Sea Lion,” said Hike cheerfully.
The polished youth drew back, and stammered, “Why, I thought you said you’d only have time to take the team, and Poodle, for a ride. I don’t want to butt in—thanks just the same, but there’s a couple of the team—Taffy, anyway,—that haven’t ridden yet. Much obliged, just the same. I wish I could ride with you.”
“Why, I didn’t say nothing about your riding, I just wanted you to see how the aviator’s seat was fixed,” said Hike innocently.
Sea Lion looked foolish. The crowd began to grin, in sympathy with Hike. They crowded closer, till the machine was like the lion’s cage at the country circus.
“But, Sea Lion,” went on Hike, “since you make me think of it, I don’t know but what I will take you for a little spin. You see, there isn’t anybody in the school who’s so much interested in aviation as you are—I can tell that by the number of questions you ask.”
The crowd howled, for many of them had heard Sea Lion’s tormenting questions.
“Get in, Sea Lion; get in, Slimy; you aren’t scared, are you?” they yelled at him, and lifted him bodily, till he fairly had to get into the cockpit.
Hike had been standing up, gently smiling, with his helmet pushed back on his damp locks, and his goggles hanging below his chin. He snapped back the goggles, and fastened down the helmet, sharply. He crouched in the pit, yelling, “Out of the road—quick—look out!” Poodle spun the propeller.
As the crowd scattered, the monoplane ran down the field like a runaway locomotive. It shot out straight across the trees, at the edge of the field, at top speed, eighty miles an hour. Hike’s heart thumped horribly, for a tenth of a second, as the wheels on the chassis just grazed the tree-tops, and the whole machine threatened to crash down.
Sea Lion, behind him, nearly fainted.