“Taffy! Pile it on,” said Willie.
“May I go up now, Mr. Ogden?” asked Cranny, his eyes flashing with anticipation.
“Oh, yes. I have time to take you all on short spins.”
“Rah, rah!” yelled Cranny. “Watch now—see if you ever met a fellow before who could tether his bronc’ so fast.”
That morning, all but Willie Sloan took their first ride in an aeroplane. Tom’s turn came last; it was also the lowest and shortest flight which Mr. Ogden had made. The boys suspected the reason for this when the tall lad was brought to earth once more.
“I fear something is the matter with our Clifton,” remarked Willie, staring hard toward him. “He seems to wobble.”
“I’ll make you wobble!” returned Tom, threateningly.
“Gracious! Let me prescribe the rest cure for an hour. Don’t go up again, if you come down like that.”
“You’re afraid to try it yourself,” snapped Tom, highly exasperated.
“Oh, dear me, our Mr. Clifton’s nerves are so unstrung,” retorted Willie.