The automobile contest generally follows a course where watchers have vantage points for gathering.
The sailboats or motor craft can be accompanied or seen through marine glasses.
To air pilots, of course, there is plenty of excitement.
It is their skill, their ability to take advantage of every bit of tailwind, their power to get the utmost of safe “go” out of engine, wings and tail assembly, that keeps them alert and decides the outcome.
So it was in Larry’s race, with Dick, Sandy and the caretaker.
It could not be watched or followed; but to the occupants of the ship it was a thrilling competition with the mystery element adding zest; and when, with a fair tailwind aiding him, Larry shot the improvised “field” of the ninth fairway, making sure at cost of one complete circuit that no one was there, playing, the thrill for them was not over.
Sandy caught Larry’s idea even before the airplane had taxied to its place, close to the original take-off.
“I’m off!” cried Sandy, coat flung aside, collar ripped away, as he leaped fleetly along the soft turf. Not waiting to observe his progress, Dick and Larry busied themselves getting the airplane tail around into the same position it had originally occupied.
The engine had long before been stopped.
From the air, to an observer who had no idea that his craft had been used, all should seem natural, Larry decided as he and Dick, with Sandy’s discarded garments, and with the caretaker ruefully grumbling, chose a place of concealment.