The Boy Aviators' Treasure Quest; Or, The Golden Galleon
dren, and every train brought more. They swarmed about the aerodromes and almost
green dress and a red parasol of old Schmidt, the owner of the
rejoined Billy Barnes, who happened to be stand
work putting the finishing touches on t
arrested and locked where he would be out of further mischief, fo
on to the field. They swarmed in such numbers that the judges of the course found it impossible to keep them back of the rows of red flags, that had been planted as a boundary mark, and therefo
-Ta-ra-ta
rang out
the competitors to m
hines were practicable at all. The others were destined for the scrap-heap. Their owners, however, all fairly beamed with
r inkhued shape loomed up, came in for a buzz of admiration. Malvoise, in a leathern jacket of black, with black leggings, gauntlets and go
revolutions a minute. All her cylinders worked perfectly and the steady drone, rising in intensity as her young owner
pellers created back draughts that swept off the spectators' hats and gave the men who were holding on to the struggling machines al
out, half of derision, half
!" yelled
scertain what could have
shopper leaping and bounding across the fi
te his stopping levers and to cut out his engine. But something was wrong
craft and speeding the engine to the limit. Then as the propeller reached its maximum velocity the terrific strain caused the holding-back grips to part and the machine had instantly darted away. The
little estate the Grasshopper headed, driven as it seemed by some perverse instinct. Schmidt, seeing evidently that he
bronco. She shot into the air to a height of about twenty feet and then suddenly, without the slightest warning, she gave a crazy swoop d
whom were the boys, feared at first that several persons had been hurt instead of the luckless aviator. All a
the sudden appearance of the Grasshopper's owner had given way to wrath at his invasion, suddenly charged at him. She caught him
he Luckless Avia
rt?" yelled
ead, I dink!" shouted
er Grasshopper is a pig
going and her propeller still beating the air, lay like a
"Vos iss los mit you, any vay, you bad Grasshobber. Himmel! dot propeller almost takes my nose off. Aber ni
e old man finally turned off the switch and the en
the propeller came to a stop. "Aber maybe dot's chust as vell. If
thought a rough-looking man in overa
houted to the crowd, "or I'll
dt among them; but the man with th
n account to settle before you get away from me. What do you m
ostulated Schmidt, "I vould much rather have been so
nd brought a lot of folks, who ought to be at home instead of fooling around a lot of crazy
e quits, I dink. I spoil your pig-pen, but your pig-pen spo
rk over fifty dollars or
produced a fat wallet, and peeling off two twenty-dol
and then you don't fly excepd in mit der hogs," he exclai
on from this scene, which they had watched from a
the war
s the big rac