"Every boat, pard," said he, "whether she sails the ocean or the sky, has got to have a name; therefore I, by virtue of my authority as assistant to the big high boy who is to navigate the craft, name this aëroplane the June Bug."
With that, the cowboy broke a bottle of Adam's ale over the lower plane.
"No likee June Bug," chattered Ping. "Him velly bum name. Why you no callee him Fan Tan, huh?"
"Fan Tan!" jeered McGlory. "Why, you squint-eyed heathen, this ship's no gamble, but a sure thing. Remember the lines of that beautiful poem:
"The June bug has no wings at all,
But it gets there just the same."
"That's good enough," laughed Matt. "I'm going to eat and turn in, for to-morrow I fly."
The motor was a four-cylinder, and Matt judged, after taking measurements, that it would develop about twenty-five horse power.
The next day came on with a very high wind, so high that Matt deemed it worse than foolish to attempt his first flight. It was hoped that, later in the day, the wind would go down. Time was not lost while waiting, however. Gasoline was secured from the fort, together with a quantity of oil, and the motor was disconnected and given its own particular try-out.
It worked splendidly.
Next the power was connected with the bicycle wheels, and the June Bug was sent along the road under its own power. Matt, in the driver's seat, came very near taking a fly in spite of himself, for the wings caught the wind and lifted the aëroplane some four feet in the air. With a twist of the lever, Matt quickly pointed the smaller planes downward, and glided into the road again without a jar.