"Well, then, I think so very much of you I didn't want it to worry
you."

"Roll her out," was all that Grimshaw would say, placing his one
hand on the tail of the biplane. "Hold on for a minute. Gasoline
supply?"

"Twenty-five gallons."

"That will do. Lubricating oil-all right. Now then, lad, hit that
head wind every time, and you'll make it, sure."





CHAPTER III

A WILD NIGHT RIDE


"Go!"

It was less than half an hour after the appearance of Grimshaw on
the scene that the Baby Racer was all ready for its stormy night's
flight.

The old aviator had fussed and poked about the dainty little
biplane, as if it was some valued friend he was sending out into the
world to try its fortune. Every once in a while he had growled out