"You can understand, can't you," went on Matt patiently, "that closing or opening the wings distributes the air pressure on each side of the machine and holds it level?"
"Never mind me, pard," said McGlory. "Keep right on."
"These bicycle wheels," and Matt indicated three wheels under the aëroplane, "give the machine its start."
"It's got to have a running start, eh?"
"Sure. When a bird begins to take wing it has to have some kind of a start. A small bird jumps into the air, and a big bird, like a condor, has to take a run before its wings take a grip on the atmosphere. It's the same with an aëroplane. A speed of twenty-eight miles an hour is required before the air under the planes will lift the flying machine. The motor of this machine is geared to the bicycle wheels, at the start. When the machine is running fast enough, the power is switched to the propeller—and up we go!"
"Mebby we do," muttered the cowboy, "but I wouldn't bet on it. Then, again, if we go up will we stay up? And how can you guide the blooming thing skyward, or on a level, or come down?"
"Why," continued Matt, "these two little planes in front of the big ones attend to that." He shifted them with a lever to show McGlory how they worked. "This upright rudder behind," he added, "shifts the course to right or left."
"I'll take your word for it, Matt," said the cowboy. "I've taken a good many slim chances in my life, but you'll never catch me taking a chance on one of those things."
"I don't intend to ask you to take any chances, Joe," proceeded Matt. "All I want you to do is to trail along and attend to the work below while I'm in the air. Traquair has invented something here that's scientific and valuable, and I'm sure we can make a winner out of it, and not only help Mrs. Traquair, but ourselves, as well. That work of ours in Madison netted us more than twelve hundred dollars. The question is, do you want to put in two hundred and fifty dollars with me on the chance of raking in seven thousand five hundred up at Fort Totten?"
"You couldn't keep me from takin' that bet with a shotgun," averred the cowboy. "If you're in on the deal, then that means me, too, any old day you find in the almanac. We'll go to Fort Totten, Matt, and while you're paddlin' around in the air I'll hunt up soft places for you to 'light. Your head's pretty level on most things, and it's a cinch you must have this business figured out pretty straight, but——"