caused him to make such an abrupt descent, he prepared to go up once
more.

"Sacre!" he muttered, "those pigs of American boys would certainly get
the cup if it wasn't for my foresight in providing against such an
emergency."

The crowd scampered across the field to the Frenchman's side as it was
seen he was about to take the air again, and a dozen volunteers laid
on to the rear frames of his craft and held her back while he started
the engine. The Frenchman took his seat with deliberation and adjusted
his gloves with care. It was easy to see that he fairly reveled in the
admiration he excited.

Just as the Frenchman was about to start his engine, preparatory to
giving the word to let go, there was a shout from the crowd and cries
of:

"Let him through."

"No, keep him out."

"Who is he, anyhow?"

"Aw, he's an old man; let him get through."

"He's crazy."

"No, he isn't."