"I'd hardly know her," remarked Billy, watching the boys, as they took
their places on two small seats with slender steel arm rests. Harry's
seat was by the engine and Frank sat at the steering wheel, which
manipulated the dipping and diving rudders as well as the rearward
steering surface. One of his feet was on the brake--an automatic
contrivance that cut off the spark. The other reposed on the foot pump
which was used in case anything went wrong with the force-feed
lubrication.

"All right," said Frank, twisting the valve that sent the gasolene
flowing to the carburetor and adjusting the switch.

Billy could stand it no longer. He had been watching with anxious eyes
the preparations and apparently the boys were going to fly without
him.

"Say, Frank," he began hesitatingly, "I don't suppose you could--"

Frank turned and saw the wistful look in the young reporter's eyes.

"Take you up?" he said, with a laugh at Billy's downcast appearance.

Billy nodded.

"Well, there's not much room for passengers the way she is fixed at
present," laughed Harry catching Frank's mirth, "but if you want to
squeeze in by me here, you can. Here, Le Blanc, bring out that spare
seat."

A few seconds later the delighted reporter was sitting on a small