The days which followed were pleasant ones to the lad. Even Kindale admitted that he had a decided aptitude for machinery. The Ogdens, however, believing that it was only a passing fancy, smiled indulgently.
One afternoon the mechanics, and several assistants requisitioned from a crowd which usually lounged about the hangar, began to haul forth the great balloon.
A cheer came from the crowd when the cigar-shaped air-ship, weighted with bags of sand, and held captive by means of ropes, rested outside the building.
Willie pleaded earnestly to be allowed to ascend.
“But won’t you be afraid?” asked the Major.
“No indeed! It isn’t like an air-skimmer; there’s a solid floor to stand on.”
“There is only a moderate breeze blowing,” explained the Major. “I have been waiting for just such a day as this—neither absolutely calm nor too windy; and, incidentally, I wish to experiment with a new steering gear. I suppose there is no harm in your going. Come along.”
He stepped quickly up the gangplank, with Willie at his heels. Kindale had already taken a stand by the engine.
“We won’t be long, Ogden!” called the Major, presently. “Let go, men!”
Slowly and majestically the “Border City” began to rise.