“Why don’t you make it one of the boat kind—hydro-aeroplanes, aren’t they?” Sam asked. “Then, if you fell into the water——”
“Shucks! I don’t intend to fall,” Poke put in hastily. “And there’d be no use in pontoon attachments. I’m going to do my flying at fairs mostly, where there wouldn’t be any ponds handy; for fairs are where the money will be, and I’m out for the cash.”
“Oh! I remember,” said Sam, and drew closer to inspect the machine.
The contrivance was supported on bicycle wheels. The use of these and of the planes—Poke appeared to have decided on a biplane model—Sam understood in a general way, but he was all at sea about the functions of various levers and cords grouped about the operator’s seat, a bicycle saddle fitted with a back and perched not too securely, by his notion, on the framework. It occurred to the visitor that the spread of wing was not so great as he had supposed it would have to be; and he ventured a remark to this effect.
Poke waved a careless hand. “Oh, that’s all right—increased speed of motor has ’tended to that difficulty. Don’t you worry, Sam!”
Sam said nothing, but moved slowly around the machine, eyeing it closely.
“I’d give you a demonstration—kind of a drill, that is,” said Poke, “if all the rigging were complete. But it isn’t, quite. Step, you see, is working out the details—he’s a crackerjack of a mechanic—regular genius. Just now some of his ideas are sort of—well, sort of in embryo—and things aren’t fixed just the way they’ll be when we’re ready to give an exhibition. That’ll be before very long, though.”
“So?”
“Yes; Step and I have figured out just what to do. When we’re ready for practice flights, we’ll take the Saracen out to the lake, where there’s elbow-room in the big field, and where we won’t be bothered by crowds. There’s an old shed in which we can keep the machine at night, and we’ll take care to lug it out to the lake without attracting attention. This is a private affair till we get ready for public exhibitions, you know.”
“But lots of people must have been getting some sort of an idea about it—an idea, anyway, that you’re up to something.”