e Le Roy starting to descend. Something appeared
to be wrong with the black biplane's motor. It acted sluggishly.

"Well, as he's going down I guess I will, too," said Jimsy to himself;
"6,000 feet is by no means a record, but it's high enough for me."

Suddenly he was plunged into what appeared to be a wet and chilly fog.
In reality it was a cloud that had drifted in on him. It grew suddenly
cold with an almost frosty chill. The moisture of the cloud drenched him
to the skin. The lad shivered and his teeth chattered, but he kept
pluckily to his task.

Before long he emerged into the sunlight once more. The crowd which had
thrilled when the young aviator vanished into the vapor set up a yell
when he reappeared. But at the height he was Jimsy, of course, did not
hear it.

But as he dropped lower the shouts and cheers became plainly audible.
The lad waved his hand in acknowledgment. Then, as he neared the ground,
he put his machine through a series of graceful evolutions that set the
crowd wild.

"The altitude flight is won by Number Four," announced the officials
after they had examined the barograph; "with a height of 6,000 feet.
Number Four is Mr. James Bancroft."

"Gee; that sounds real dignified," laughed Jimsy; "it's a treat to be
treated with becoming dignity once in a while."

The next flight was a race six times round the course. This was won
by one of the Kelly flyers. Then came an endurance contest which Roy
captured handily and some exhibition flying in which Bess did some
clever work and was delighted to find herself a winner.

It was soon after this that the gun was fired as a note of warning that
the big race was about to begin.

Peggy's _Golden Butterfly_ and Roy's entry, the _Red Dragon_, borrowed
for this race because the biplane was too heavy and clumsy for such
fast work, were wheeled to the starting line. Already three of Kelly's
machines were there, among them being that of Senora Le Roy, or, as she
was billed, the Cuban Skylark, the Only Woman Flyer in the World. It
appeared now that she had small claim to the title. The crowd set up
a cheer for her as she took her seat in a neat-looking monoplane of
the Bleriot type.

But when Peggy's dapper figure, smartly attired in her aviation costume,
appeared a still louder shout went up.

Kelly scowled blackly. He stepped up to his flyers.

"You've got to win this race or get fired," he snarled.

CHAPTER XXI.

PEGGY'S SPLENDID RACE.