Andy Foger stood looking at his tilted airship. His clothes were covered with mud from the ditch, some of the muck had splashed over his face so that he was a pitiable looking object.
"What's the matter?" panted Pete Bailey.
"Are you hurt?" asked Sam Snedecker.
The two cronies had hurried to the side of the bully.
"Matter? Can't you see what's the matter?" demanded Andy wrathfully. "The machine came down, that's what's the matter! Why didn't you fellows fix the motor better?" he shouted at the two machinists as they came running up, followed by the crowd.
"Fix it better? The motor was all right," declared the taller machinist. "Any of them are likely to stop unexpectedly."
"Well, I didn't think mine would," came from Andy. "Now look at my airship! It's all busted!"
"No, it isn't hurt much," said the other man, after critically looking it over. "We can fix it, and you'll fly yet, Andy."
"I hope I do, if only to fool Tom Swift," declared the bully, as he wiped some of the mud from his face. "Come on, now, help me wheel the machine back, and I'll try it again."
Andy made another attempt, but this time the machine did not even rise off the ground, and then, amid the jeers of the crowd, the discomfited lad took his aeroplane back to the shed in the rear of his house.