That
fellow's just going to touch it off, and----"
At the same instant the doors of the Nameless's shed were flung open.
From them emerged the glistening form of the golden-winged _Butterfly_.
Half a dozen men whom Jimsy had hired pushed the aerial craft rapidly
across the field to the starting line. So engrossed was the crowd in
watching the other machines that they hardly noticed the arrival of the
added starter.
But not so Mortlake and his companions. They watched, with jaundiced eyes,
the forthcoming of their dreaded rival, and if wishes could have disabled
her, the _Golden Butterfly_ would never have flown on that day.
B-o-o-m!
The echoes of the second bomb rang deafeningly.
"They're off!" yelled the crowd, as if there might have been some doubt of
it.
Up into the puffy air winged six aeroplanes. It was a glorious sight. From
the chassis of the various air craft the airmen waved farewells to the
cheering crowd.
Flying, wing and wing, they dashed off toward where the sea lay, a deep
blue patch, beyond the shore. Presently they faded into dots and then were
blotted out altogether.
"There's a thick haze out there," said one of the officers, as the
aeroplanes vanished.
The word ran through the crowd and created a momentary sensation. Then the
big throng dismissed the flying aeroplanes from its mind, and wandered
about the grounds gazing openmouthed at the freak types, whose inventors
were willing enough--too willing--to explain their remarkable points.
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