Frank had taken every possible precaution. He had thoroughly studied
the ground, and made sure that no obstacle would be apt to cause the
running gear of the aeroplane to swerve, and thus throw them off their
course.
All he could do was to start the machinery, get a rise at the quickest
possible second, and be ready to shut off power if he realized that the
feat they were about to attempt were impossible, so as to avoid smashing
the planes against a tree.
"Then here goes!" he said, calmly.
Andy held his breath as he heard the engine start off at a tremendous
speed. He felt as though a giant hand had plucked them from the spot
where the aeroplane had been planted for the start. Across the glade
they went speeding. His heart almost jumped into his mouth he believed,
as he felt the little craft start to leave the ground, as Frank
manipulated the planes, and elevated them so as to catch the air under
the broad blades.
They were rising rapidly now! Would they manage to clear those terrible
treetops that stood like a grim barrier in their path?
Higher yet did Frank throw the planes, so that they actually seemed to
be climbing straight upward, according to the vivid imagination of Andy;
who, clutching the upright at his side, waited for what was going to
happen.
It was too late now to retreat! They had gone too far to stop, and try
again! No matter whether for good or ill, their kite had been tossed to
the winds of heaven, and they must abide by the consequences.
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