"I'm goin' ter git yer in ther court," insisted the farmer sullenly.
"Las' week some autermobubblists killed three uv my chickens, week
afore thet I had a hog knocked off ther road. I'm er goin' ter git
even on yer fer ther lot uv them."

It was plain that the man was not to be moved by promises or
persuasion. He had conceived in his mind a hatred against automobiles,
with which, in a vague way, he classed airships and all such modern
inventions. Jack thought, too, that Ezra Perkins was the kind of man
who liked to shine out among his neighbors, and what better
opportunity could he have to satisfy this ambition than by blossoming
forth as a man who, single handed, had captured a great aircraft?

The boys looked down. The farmer was pacing grimly up and down like a
sentry, his eyes never leaving the Wondership.

"I'd like to drop a bag of ballast on his head, the same as those
balloonists did on Si's," muttered Tom.

"Wouldn't do any good," said Jack. "It would only bounce off again."

"I guess it would at that," agreed Tom with a grin.

"I've half a mind to take a chance," said Jack suddenly.

"And get a hole blown in the balloon bag," protested Tom. "We wouldn't
be better off than before in that case."

"I wonder if he'd really shoot or if he's only bluffing," mused Jack.