The Air Mystery of Isle La Motte
“Why don’t you go back above the shore?” he suggested.

“We have to land on the cove when we get home, so why switch gears. If there’s time this evening, we might locate a place to land on the farm, but we’ll have to ask your uncle about that or we’ll be coming down on some field he’s planted.”

“O.K. with me.”

“Whoooo boys,” Mr. Fenton shouted from the pier where he was standing with a group of men and an army of small boys who had come to see the take off.

“An audience. Do your prettiest, Your Highness,” Bob urged the plane as his step-brother brought it around in fancy style.

“It isn’t every farmer who has a couple of pilots to bring him to town in a private plane, free of charge,” one of the men joked.

“Certainly looks like the farmers are getting some relief,” another added. “They are going up in the air about it.”

“It’s time we did something,” Mr. Fenton responded. “Shall I get in now, Jim?”

“Sure.” Bob gave him a hand, the straps were re-adjusted, and the younger boy crawled back to his seat, attached his own parachute, and was finally ready. By that time the shore was lined with spectators.

“All ready. Contact,” Caldwell shouted. Jim opened the throttle, and they were off in a jiffy. They could see the people waving and cheering as they came about a few feet above the lake. Then Her Highness zoomed, high and handsome and the town was left behind.

Because of the rising wind the return trip was not so smooth. They ran into bumps and pockets, and the force of the approaching storm drove hard behind them, pushing them forward swiftly. Jim zoomed to ten thousand feet in an effort to get above the troubled air, but even at that altitude there was no improvement. Occasionally he took a second to glance at his passenger, but Mr. Fenton was facing it bravely, although his eyes showed that he was a bit anxious. The young pilot took the speaking tube, signaled to the boy in the back, and almost instantly there was a red flash on the dial board, which meant Bob was paying attention.

“Better put your cover over, old man.”

“Got her up,” came the answer. “I’m snug as a bug in a rug. Want to know the readings back here?”

“Yes.” Bob read 
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