CHAPTER VI - A BUCKING BIPLANE
STEPHEN KANE HAD SCARCELY slept a wink for three nights. When Orissa came home Thursday evening he met her at the car with the news that his aëroplane was complete.
“I’ve been adjusting it and testing the working parts all the afternoon,” he said, his voice tense with effort to restrain his excitement, “and I’m ready for the trial whenever you say.”
“All right, Steve,” she replied briskly; “it begins to be daylight at about half past four, this time of year; shall we make the trial at that hour to-morrow morning?”
“I couldn’t wait longer than that,” he admitted, pressing her arm as they walked along. “My idea is to take it into old Marston’s pasture.”
“Isn’t the bull there?” she inquired.
“Not now. Marston has kept the bull shut up the past few days. An
