"Oh, buck up! Buck up!" said Tinker impatiently. "You're all right!
You're all right!"
It was a matter of a few seconds for him to climb the door of the
palisades, drop lightly on the other side, and open it. He steered the
financier gingerly round the planes, past the propelling and steering
fans, and got him into the car. He set him well forward in the bows of
it, and began to let the rope unwind from the windlass which moored the
flying-machine. All the while he heard the steady snores of Herr
Schlugst, sleeping in his iron hut.
The flying-machine rose slowly with very little creaking for all the
greatness of the planes; the last of the rope ran out, and the lights
of the town sank like stones in water beneath them.
"Right away!" cried Tinker joyfully, and the financier gasped.
When the lights of the town were a mere blur beneath them, Tinker
switched on the electric lamps, and the millionaire saw him sitting on
a wicker seat in the stern of the boat-shaped car, surrounded by
levers, instruments, and dials. Tinker bade him grip the steel rails
on either side of the car, and get ready for a swoop. Then he set the
motor going, and steered round the flying-machine on to her course.
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