It took a few seconds for the strange and oppressive silence to be broken. It was as though the enthralled witnesses of the scene could not at first comprehend the evidences of their vision. Then frantic shouts and wild cheers rang forth over and over again.
Actually!—Drugstore was safe. What did it mean? Had he become such a master aviator that he had been simply giving an exhibition of his skill? It looked that way.
In their joy, the students slapped each other on the shoulder and yelled themselves hoarse.
Around and around the -piste flew the airplane, and it was not until a certain calmness had been restored among the students that it volplaned swiftly toward the earth, and, as easily as a bird alighting, struck the ground and presently came to a halt.
And the moment it had done so an excited crowd began rushing toward it from different parts of the field.
No conquering hero was ever acclaimed with greater fervor—with greater enthusiasm than T. Singleton Albert. Hands were thrust forward to shake that of the returned aviator.
The moniteurs praised and chided him at the same time. It was almost unbelievable, one of them declared, that a student with so little experience should have possessed sufficient courage to execute such a dangerous and daring maneuver.
And throughout it all Albert remained quite silent. The demonstration, indeed, seemed to embarrass him—to bring his natural modesty and reserve all the more to the front.
“Simply splendid, T. Singleton!” cried Don, enthusiastically. “Only, I wish to goodness you had notified us beforehand what was coming off. Honestly, my nerves are jumping like a jack-in-the-box. But didn’t the vrille make you dizzy?”
“Yes,” admitted Drugstore—“so much so that just now I wouldn’t be able to look in a mirror and see myself twice in the same place.”