Suddenly, below him opened the narrow lane roped off along the road. A buzz of excited voices echoed in his ears. With steady hand he shut off the power and glided downward.
"Drop from the bar and run, Haidee," he shouted, "as soon as we come close to the ground."
There was a response from the girl, but the clamor of the crowd prevented him from hearing what it was.
The next moment the blazing aëroplane settled into the road and glided along on the bicycle wheels.
McGlory, Carl, and Ping were on hand, the cowboy in charge of a detachment of canvasmen with buckets. A hiss of steam, as water struck the flames, rose in the air.
"Careful!" cried Matt, restraining the impetuous assault of the fire fighters. "Don't climb over the machine and damage it! Keep them back, Joe! Here, some of you, drench the wings on the right side and keep the fire from spreading."
Ably directed by Matt and McGlory, the fire was extinguished. Leaving the damaged aëroplane in charge of Carl and Ping, Matt limped off toward the calliope tent, accompanied by his cowboy chum.
[CHAPTER VII.]
WAS IT TREACHERY?