Cheery shouts came in response. The motor began to vibrate; the “Ogden II” shot swiftly ahead, and, in another moment, yielding to the effect of its powerful propellers, left the ground.
Bob watched the objects skimming beneath with ever-increasing speed. A backward glance showed him Lone Pine and the boys swiftly dropping behind. The horizon was rising, each instant revealing greater stretches of prairie. Chains of distant hills came into view, and, far to the west, seen through a whitish haze, the range of mountains extended off in a series of jagged peaks.
The slight sensation of dizziness and feeling of insecurity which Bob Somers had experienced during his early flights was now almost entirely absent. He felt a strange exhilaration as the cool air rushing by fanned his cheeks.
Higher, still higher climbed the biplane toward the white clouds above, through openings in which streamed bursts of sunlight that sent its shadow flying across prairie and cattle. The yellow alkali plain, with its curiously-shaped sandstone buttes, was soon plainly in view, while he could see a line of scrubby willows and a slender thread of bluish white showing between, to mark the meandering course of the river.
Mr. Ogden, having confidence in the nerves of his passenger, soared still higher, the biplane headed against a gently resisting breeze. Occasionally as stronger or slanting gusts struck the planes, it rocked; then, with almost the buoyancy of a feather, recovered its equilibrium.
Bob judged by the rapidity with which the clouds were scudding past that the machine was going at tremendous speed, but the earth, so far below, seemed to be slipping by at only a leisurely rate. He saw patches of timber enveloped in the deep blue of distance, acres of tumbleweed, and vast areas of bright green buffalo grass dotted here and there with cattle.
Far off, as little patches of white, Circle T Ranch and its outbuildings presently shot into view. Eagerly, Bob Somers watched it growing larger.
“I wonder if Mr. Follett or any of the cow-punchers see us,” he mused, drawing his field-glass from its case.
A glance through it brought within the range of his vision several tiny figures gathered before the ranch, all apparently staring hard at the flying machine.
Mr. Ogden put on additional power. Then, responding to a turn of its rudder, the aeroplane cut a lane straight toward Circle T.