"Hoop-a-la!" exulted Ping. "By Klismus, my likee sail in Cloud Joss!"
"I wish I had that heathen's nerve," muttered the cowboy. "It's plumb scandalous the way the joy bubbles out of him. All his life he's been glued to terra firma, same as me, but, from the way he acts, you'd think he'd spent most of his time on the wing. But mebby he's only running in a rhinecaboo, and will dive into his wannegan as soon as we're ready to take a running start and climb into the air. We'll see."
"Pump up the bicycle tires, Joe," said Matt. "Get them good and hard. Ping," and Matt pointed to the haversack of provender McGlory had brought from the post, "stow that back of the seat on the lower wing. We may be gone two or three days."
"And mebby we'll be cut off in our youth and bloom and never come back," observed McGlory, grabbing the air pump. "This is Matt's make and break," he grinned grewsomely; "we make an ascent and break our bloomin' necks. But who cares? We're helping a neighbor."
Ping crooned happily as he set about securing the haversack. He'd have jumped on a streak of chain lightning, if Matt had been going along with him to make the streak behave.
The Comet had two gasoline tanks, and both of these were full. The oil cups were also brimming, and there was a reserve supply to be drawn on in case of need.
Matt went over the machine carefully, as he always did before a flight, making sure that everything was tight and shipshape, and in perfect running order.
Even if anything went wrong with the motor, and the propeller ceased to drive the aëroplane ahead, there would have been no accident. The broad wings, or planes, would have glided down the air like twin parachutes and landed the flyers safely.
Cameron, having manfully smothered his disappointment, lent his hearty aid in getting the boys ready for the start. The machine, at the beginning of the flight, had to be driven forward on the bicycle wheels until the air under the wings offered sufficient resistance to lift the craft. A speed of thirty miles an hour was sufficient to carry the flying machine off the ground and launch it skyward.
But there was disappointment in store for the boys. The three, seated on the lower plane, Matt at the levers, tried again and again to send the machine fast enough along the muddy road to give it the required impetus to lift it. But the road was too heavy.