“Hold on tight,” said Cranny.
“Ready?” asked the aviator, a moment later.
“Go on,” answered Willie.
“Give him a good ride, Bob. We’re goin’ to saddle up an’ follow you,” called out Cranny.
“Ho for a canter over the rolling plain!” cried Dick.
As several preliminary gasps came from the motor, the boys dashed pell-mell toward a frame building in the rear, where their bronchos were stabled.
The “Ogden II” was off.
Willie Sloan, clutching hold of the supports for dear life, instantly began to regret his hasty decision. The powerful engine was sending them along at a rate which, to his inexperienced eyes, seemed extremely dangerous. And the earth was falling away from them in a most curious and awe-inspiring manner.
The boy shut his eyes to keep from view this dreadful sight.
After many minutes had passed, he again dared to peer through half-opened lids. Although they were flying quite low, that one swift glance was enough to make his head swim. But the thought of Tom Clifton prevented the lad from reaching over to give Bob Somers a warning touch on the arm.