Got all the gas in, Rad?"
"Every drop, Massa Tom."
"Then catch hold and help wheel the Lark out. Ned, you steady her on
that side. How are the tires? Do they need pumping up?"
"Hard as rocks," answered Tom's chum, as he tapped his toe against
the rubber circlets of the small bicycle wheels on which the
aeroplane rested.
"Then they'll do, I guess. Come on now, and we'll give her a test
before we start off. I ought to get a few hundred more revolutions
per minute out of the motor with the way I've adjusted the magneto.
Rad, you and Ned hold back, while I turn the engine over."
The youth and the colored man grasped the rear supports of the long,
tail-like part of the monoplane while Tom stepped to the front to
twist the propeller blades. The first two times there was no
explosion as he swung the delicate wooden blades about, but the
third time the engine started off with a roar, and a succession of
explosions that were deafening, until Tom switched in the muffler,
thereby cutting down the noise. Faster and faster the propeller
whirled about as the motor warmed up, until the young inventor
exclaimed:
"That's the stuff! She's better than ever! Climb up Ned, and we'll
start off.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25