less indignant at the sneering tone and words, also
faced about.

"Good morning, girls," said Fan Harding, easily, raising his motoring cap
nonchalantly, "I came to see the ascension, but I'm afraid that it's
going to be a descension."

"I think you're hateful to talk like that," cried Peggy, angrily,
stamping her foot. "Our aeroplane will rise. It just will, I tell
you--oh, gracious!"

She broke off in confusion and stood aghast for a moment. The swiftly
scudding aeroplane had stopped its skittering over the grass and had come
to an abrupt stop at a distance of about five hundred yards.

Already the boys were running across the turf toward it at top speed. The
girls could see Mr. Homer clambering out of the chassis as the machine
came to a standstill.

"Ha! Ha! just as I thought," chuckled Fan Harding, viciously, "that thing
is a dead failure."

Poor Peggy, tears in her eyes at this seeming disaster, was stung fairly
out of herself. She switched round on Fan Harding with a suddenness that
made her skirt fly out and that young gentleman step precipitately
backward.

"It isn't a failure, Fan Harding," she cried, with blazing eyes. "How
dare you come here to sneer at us. We didn't invite you. Oh, I could----"

But Jess had seized her arm and succeeded in checking Peggy just in time.
She whispered something to the indignant girl, who, with a scornful look
at Fan Harding, turned and, with her friend, ran lightly off toward the
stranded aeroplane.

"By Jove, I really thought for a minute she was going to slap my face,"
chuckled Fan Harding to himself. "How pretty she is when she is angry.
But I guess if she knew what I do about certain affairs she wouldn't be
quite so fresh with me."

He cast a glance at the aeroplane around which the anxious young people
were now clustering thickly.

"If that thing is a success," he mused, as he strode off to join them,
"so much the better for me. I think I could use an aeroplane. I don't see
why I should let Roy Prescott beat me out at anything. Ah! They've
started the engine again and--by ginger, she's rising! She's going up!
She's flying!"

The small irregularity in the working of the engine, which had brought
the plane to a stop, had been quickly remedied. Even Fan Harding, little
as he liked Roy, could not help but join in the cheers as the Golden
Butterfly, swinging in an easy circle, began to climb--higher and higher
toward the fleecy clouds that flecked the blue dom