"It looks a little frail, compared to the big Red Cloud, Tom," answered the eccentric man, "but I'm going up in her just the same; bless my buttons if I'm not."
Tom could not but admire the grit of his friend.
The rest of the day was busily spent making various adjustments to the monoplane, putting on new wire stays, changing the rudder cables, and tuning up the motor. The propeller was tightened on the shaft, and toward evening Tom announced that all was in readiness for a trial flight.
"Want to come, Mr. Damon?" he asked.
"I'll wait, and see how it acts with you aboard," was the answer. "Not that I'm afraid, for I'm going to make the trip in the morning, but perhaps it won't work just right now."
"Oh, I guess it will," ventured Tom, and in order to be able to know just how his Butterfly was going to behave, with a passenger of Mr. Damon's weight, the young inventor placed a bag of sand on the extra seat.
The monoplane was then wheeled to the end of the starting ground. Tom took his place in the seat, and Mr. Jackson started the propeller. At first the engine failed to respond, but suddenly with a burst of smoke, and a spluttering of fire the cylinders began exploding. The hat of Mr. Damon, who was standing back of the machine, was blown off by the wind created by the propeller.
"Bless my gaiters!" he exclaimed, "I never thought it was as strong as that!"
"Let go!" cried Tom to Mr. Jackson and Eradicate, who were holding back the monoplane from gliding over the ground.
"All right," answered the engineer.