Peggy could go no further and half collapsed in Roy's arms as he tenderly lifted her out.
"Great hopping water millions!" cried the farmer, "if this ain't a day of wonders. This must be ther lad's sister he told us about, and ter think she come flopping down out of ther sky like a seventeen-y'ar locust."
Peggy was quickly her usual strong, self-reliant self again. With indignation blazing in her kind eyes she heard Roy's account of the happenings of the night. At its conclusion she announced with decision:
"Yes, but how? There's only a scant half hour before starting time if you said they'd changed it."
"Even so you can make it. You must take these clothes, get into the aeroplane and fly back to the track. If you go alone the 'plane will be light and you can make it in time."
"I guess I can borrow a dress from Mrs. Ingalls here," said the girl briskly.
"Of course, you kin," put in Mrs. Ingalls, but surveying her own ample form rather doubtfully the while.
"You kin give her one of daughter Jenny's dresses," said the farmer.
"Then that is settled, thanks to you," said Peggy with characteristic decision.
They all entered the farm house, from which, a few seconds later, Roy emerged, clad in the garments his sister had donned a short time before. He climbed into the aeroplane amid the admiring comments of the farm hands, who, by this time, had come in from the fields, drawn by the wonderful airship, and stood all about it gaping and wondering.
Peggy, in a dress belonging to the farmer's daughter, who was away on a visit, stepped quickly to Roy's side as, after glancing at the clock attached to the front of the aeroplane, he started the engine.
As it started its uproarious song, the farm hands jumped back in affright. But Peggy clasped her brother's hand.
And that was all, but as Peggy Prescott gazed a few minutes later at the fast diminishing form of the speeding aeroplane she felt that all she had braved and dared that day had not been in vain.
Excitement had reached its topmost pitch on the aviation field. It was but a few minutes to starting time for the great contest, and already four young aviators had their winged craft in line before the judge's stand.
Engines were belching clouds of acrid blue smoke heavily impregnated with oily, smelling fumes. The roar of motors shook the air. Folks in the grandstand and on the crowded lawns excitedly pointed out to one another the different machines, all of which bore large numbers.