clared Elephant, still
showing extreme nervousness. "And what if Frank or Andy happened to be
caught in the wires that stay the planes? They might be drowned, you
see. Accidents can happen, even to the two smart Bird boys."

"No danger of any such catastrophe, I give you my word," went on the
gentleman. "And when you learn the truth, you'll thank me for
restraining you from acting in a foolish manner. Here, take a look
through this glass I chance to have along in the car. What do you see
now?"

Larry accepted the binoculars, and immediately adjusted them to his
eyes.

"Well, of all the things I ever heard of!" he slowly ejaculated.

"Let me look, Larry," exploded Elephant, as he deftly "hooked" the
glasses away from his companion's hands, and immediately clapped them
to his own eyes, to let out a shout of amazement. "I declare if the
old thing ain't floatin' like a big duck. Talk about her sinking, you
couldn't push that wonder box down under the surface. Some more of
Frank's magic; he's got 'em all queered a mile, Larry."

"Listen," remarked Mr. Marsh, quietly. "There's nothing so very
wonderful about this new stunt of your friend, Frank. Those shining
things you noticed about the biplane happened to be a couple of new
aluminum pontoons under the craft, meant to float the whole affair
whenever it drops in the water. They will be in common use shortly.
And that machine is what we call a hydroplane--that is, it will prove
to be as much at home on the water as in the air."

"What d'ye think of that, Elephant?" cried Larry, ready to swing his
hat, and give a loud whoop to let the young aviators know that friendly
eyes had been watching their startling maneuvers. "Ain't they all the
candy, though? Why, Perc Carberry never could get up early enough in
the morning to best the Bird boys."

"They float all right," remarked the other boy, still gazing through
the fine pair of marine glasses that seemed to bring the biplane within
touching distance. "But how under the sun can they start up again?
Don't they have to take a run on them bicycle wheels first?"

"Watch and see," laughed Mr. Marsh. "A hydroplane can rise from the
surface of the water just like a wild duck might. The propeller starts
to working, the machine is sent swiftly along, and soon leaves the
water, to soar upward as the planes are moved accordingly. There they
go; now, keep tab on what they do, Longley."

He took the glasses from El