A sudden stir in the crowd caused the little party in the box to
look up.
A man was hastily chalking up some legend on the big black bulletin
board. It ran thus:
Long-distance Race for $500 prize.
Start of Flight--11:01:2.
Finish of Flight--12:02:0.
Maximum Height--1,500 feet.
Wind Velocity--10 miles from southeast.
Winner--_Golden Butterfly_.
Winning Aviator--Miss Margaret Prescott.
What a cheer went up then. It seemed as if the roof would be raised off
the grandstand by it.
"It's like a dream!" sighed Peggy, "just like a dream."
"Now, don't get fainty, Peggy, or Miss Margaret Prescott," admonished
Jess; "as Jimsy says, 'brace up,' the best is yet to come."
A man came up to where they were sitting. In his hand he had a slip of
pink paper.
Roy reached out for it, but the man said that he had instructions to
hand it only to Peggy.
"It's the check for the prize-winning money," he explained.
Peggy took it and sat gazing at it for a minute.
"Oh, Peggy, what are you going to do with it?" asked Bess.
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