Roy was first in his big biplane. As the ponderous, white machine ranged
down close to the park the crowd became well-nigh uncontrollable. They
swarmed beneath the big machine, despite Roy's shouts of warning.
Skillfully as the boy manipulated the aircraft he could not check its
descent once begun.
"Out of the way! I don't want to hurt you!" he shouted, as he dashed
down.
But the crowd, sheeplike in their stupidity, refused to budge. Into the
midst of them Roy, perforce, was compelled to drive. Once the throng
perceived his intention, however, they scattered wildly. That is, all
sought positions of safety but one man, a stout, red-faced individual,
who appeared dazed or befuddled.
He stood his ground, glaring foolishly at the sky ship. With a quick
turn of his wrist Roy swept the big biplane aside, but a wing tip
brushed the stout man, toppling him over in a twinkling. By the time
Roy had stopped his machine the man was on his feet again, bellowing
furiously. He was not hurt, but his face was contorted with anger.
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