Part 1 (2/2)

”Sure thing, Aleck. And you'll want to go, too, before long. Think of flying along like a bird!” And Tom Rover spread out his arms and moved them slowly up and down. ”Oh, it's grand!”

”Yo' won't be no bird when yo' come down ker-flop!” murmured Aleck, soberly. ”Yo' will be all busted up, dat's wot yo'll be!”

”We won't fall, don't you worry,” continued Tom. ”This biplane is a first-cla.s.s machine, warranted in all kinds of weather.”

”If it am a flyin' machine wot fo' you call it a biplane?” asked the colored man curiously.

”Bi stands for two,” explained d.i.c.k. ”A bicycle means two cycles, or two wheels. A biplane means two planes, or two surfaces of canvas. This biplane of ours, as you can see, has two surfaces, or decks, an upper and a lower. A monoplane has only one plane, and a triplane has three.

Now you understand, don't you, Aleck?”

”I dun reckon I do, Ma.s.sa d.i.c.k. But look yeah, boys, yo' take my advice an' don't yo' try to sail frough de air in dat bicycleplane, or wot yo'

call it. 'Tain't safe nohow! Yo' stick to de hosses, an' dat autermobile, an' de boat on de ribber. A boy wasn't meant to be a bird nohow!”

”How about being an angel, Aleck?” asked Tom, slyly.

”Huh! An angel, eh? Well, if yo' go up in dat bicycleplane maybe yo'

will be an angel after yo' fall out, even if yo' ain't one when yo'

starts.” And with this remark Aleck Pop hurried away to his work in the house.

”That's one on you, Tom,” cried d.i.c.k, with a broad smile. ”Poor Aleck!

he evidently has no use for flying machines.”

”Well, d.i.c.k, now the machine is together, it does look rather scary,”

answered Tom Rover, slowly. ”I want to see that aviator try it out pretty well before I risk my neck going up.”

”Oh, so do I. And we'll have to have a good many lessons in running the engine, and in steering, and all that. I begin to think running a flying machine is a good deal harder than running an auto, or a motor boat.”

”Yes, I guess it is. Come on down and let us see how the engine works.

We can do that easily enough, for it's a good deal like the engine of an auto, or a motor boat,” went on Tom.

”Where is Sam?”

”He took the auto and went down to the Corners on an errand for Aunt Martha. He said he'd be back as soon as possible. He's as crazy to get at the biplane as either of us.”

The two boys walked to where the biplane had been put together, in a large open wagon shed attached to the rear of the big barn. The biplane has a stretch from side to side of over thirty feet, and the shed had been cleaned out from end to end to make room for it. There was a rudder in front and another behind, and in the centre was a broad cane seat, with a steering wheel, and several levers for controlling the craft.

Back of the seat was the engine, lightly built but powerful, and above was a good-sized tank of gasoline. The framework of the biplane was of bamboo, held together by stays of piano wire, and the planes themselves were of canvas, especially prepared so as to be almost if not quite air proof. All told, the machine was a fine one, thoroughly up-to-date, and had cost considerable money.

”We'll have to get a name for this machine,” remarked Tom. ”Have you any in mind?”

”Well, I--er--thought we might call her the--er----” And then his big brother stopped short and grew slightly red in the face.

”I'll bet an apple you were going to say _Dora_,” cried Tom quickly.

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