“I’ll say so!” agreed Ned, wagging his head. “I don’t see what it can mean.”
“We will hear more of it,” said Tom with confidence. “But probably not to-day. At any rate, no stranger goes on the Winged Arrow this first trip.”
Although Rad Sampson had got breakfast for his beloved young master in the galley of the seaplane that morning, he got off in a hurry when the time approached for the trial flight.
“I been up in de air befo’, big man,” he said to Koku. “But, belieb me! I ain’t hankering to go up no mo’ till Gabriel blows his trump. No-suh!”
“Who Gab’el?” demanded the giant. “What he blow for?”
“Ma goodness! Of all de ignerances I ever heard tell of!” groaned Rad. “I don’t see how you is ever gwine to git past Saint Peter, Koku.”
Koku merely blinked. He was worried about Tom’s going up in the plane without him. But nothing much else disturbed his simple mind just then.
Tom tried out the motors several times. The propellers worked perfectly. The hawsers holding the plane to the dock were thrown off, and then the big airship began to move. Tom headed her out into the lake.
The crowd ashore cheered wildly as the nose of the great seaplane rose from the surface. She was then surrounded by a cloud of spray and her motors were roaring. She lifted more and more, and soon those ashore could see beneath the entire length of the boat’s keel.
She hung above the water for a time, swerving in a quarter circle so as to head inshore again. Her wide wings and the two wheels underneath for land travel made the machine look like some huge winged insect or an antediluvian bird.