"
With this sage remark Jeb stepped gingerly into the chassis of the
aeroplane. He sat down where he was told and Roy took the wheel. Jeb's
companions gazed on in awed silence.
"Look out, Jeb," cried one.
"Don't hit the sky," yelled another.
"Bring me back a star," howled the facetious old man.
"Me a bit of the moon," called another.
Jeb said nothing to this raillery. Instead, he looked uneasily about him
and held his rifle, which he had insisted on bringing with him, between
his knees.
"All right?" asked Roy, looking back at him.
"As right as I ever will be," rejoined Jeb, with a rather sickly grin.
"You must hold tight," warned Peggy.
"I'm doing that," said Jeb.
And then with the same sickly grin:
"Say, miss, does it really fly?"
"Of course it does. As that old man said, how could it have got here if
it didn't."
"I guess I'd better go home and git my coat," said Jeb, trying to climb
out.
His demeanor had completely changed since he had climbed into the
chassis. Something in its well-cushioned seats and the sight of the
powerful engine and propeller seemed to have changed his mind about
the capabilities of the _Golden Butterfly_.
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