Both boys immediately followed instructions, and, after each had securely fastened the belt designed to prevent an unceremonious exit from the plane, the moniteur explained, first to one and then the other, the proper handling of the engine and rudders.
“The two most important things to remember,” he said, “are to keep the tail off the ground and the engine going at full speed.”
With his nerves at the keenest tension, Don Hale waited for the command to start. Out of the corner of his eye he could see groups standing by the machine, watching him, it seemed, in deadly silence. The familiar figure of George Glenn among them nerved the boy to do his utmost.
“Ready, sir?” asked the mechanician standing by the propeller.
“Ready!” answered Don.
“Throw on the switch!”
With a hand that trembled in spite of all his efforts to control it, Don Hale obeyed.
The mechanician whirled the propeller, and in another moment the motor was emitting a deafening roar; and in still another the “penguin,” as though suddenly endowed with life, began a headlong flight over the rather uneven ground.
With all his senses keenly alert, Don Hale felt the rushing wind fanning his cheeks; and a sort of wild exhilaration took possession of him as the “penguin,” like a runaway locomotive, sent the ground speeding behind at a rate which fairly dazzled his eyes.
But why did the “penguin” wobble and stagger in such an extraordinary manner?