The day of the big race in which the various air-craft had been
entered dawned fair and cloudless. There was not a breath of wind and
the conditions seemed propitious for making ideal flights.

The big crowds that early thronged the grounds thought so too. They
strolled about, poking their heads into various sheds and making
conditions almost unbearable for the various flying-men who were
busily preparing their machines within.

A band had been engaged and was blaring away at popular tunes. All the
aerodromes were draped with flags, and bunting of all kinds made the
grounds gay indeed.

But the gayety did not extend inside the boys' aerodrome where, in
fact, dismay reigned.

To explain its cause we must go back a little and recount some
happenings of the preceding night.

While the boys and Le Blanc had been sound asleep, the figure of
Sanborn had upraised itself from his cot and quietly sneaked over to
the aeroplane. Softly he worked with a wrench and screw-driver for
some time, and then with an exclamation of:

"That will fix you," he had softly tiptoed out of the tent carrying
the detached main guiding lever of the ship. He rapidly traversed the
deserted aviation grounds and flung the important part of the
air-craft's mechanism into a clump of bushes. Thus did Sanborn carry
out his promise to Malvoise and Luther Barr to cripple the Golden
Eagle.