With tanks full and oil chambers brimming, McGlory and Cameron pushed the aëroplane into the road. Just before Matt took his seat the lieutenant tried to force upon him a loaded six-shooter.
Matt waved it away with a laugh. "I'd rather trust to my heels, Cameron," he said, "than to one of those things."
"But you might need it," insisted Cameron.
"Couldn't use it if I did. When a fellow's up in an aëroplane both hands are occupied."
"We'll keep up with you, pard," said McGlory.
"I don't think you will, Joe, if everything works as I hope and expect. I'm going in an air line, while you fellows will have to follow the road. Where'll we meet in case we get separated?"
"Sykestown, to-morrow morning," suggested Cameron.
"All right," Matt answered as he took his seat on the lower plane and swung his feet to the foot rest. "Don't run with her to give her a start—let's see if I can't get her off without any help."
McGlory, Cameron, and Ping drew away and watched. The motor began to pop, and then to settle into a steady hum. A pull at a lever sent the power into the bicycle wheels. The aëroplane leaped off along the hard road, gradually increasing its speed as the air under the wings continued to lighten the weight on the wheels. At a distance of a hundred feet the aëroplane soared into the air, under perfect control.
Those on the ground, as well as the soldiers engaged in stripping the camp, gave three hearty cheers.