Norton was getting ready to fly. I
could see through my field glass that he was putting something
over his gyroscope and over the dynamo, but could not quite make
out what it was. His machine seemed to leap up in the air as if
eager to redeem itself. Norton with his white-bandaged head was
the hero of the hour. No sooner had his aeroplane got up over the
level of the trees than I heard a quick exclamation from Craig.
"Look at the needle, Walter!" he cried. "As soon as Norton got
into the air it shot around directly opposite to the wireless
station, and now it is pointing--"
We raised our eyes in the direction which it indicated. It was
precisely in line with the weather-beaten barn.
I gasped. What did it mean? Did it mean in some way another
accident to Norton--perhaps fatal this time? Why had Kennedy
allowed him to try it to-day when there was even a suspicion that
some nameless terror was abroad in the air? Quickly I turned to
see if Norton was all right. Yes, there he was, circling above us
in a series of wide spirals, climbing up, up. Now he seemed
almost to stop, to hover motionless. He was motionless. His
engine had been cut out, and I could see his propeller stopped.
He was riding as a ship rides on the ocean.
A boy ran up the ladder to the roof.
Pages:
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287