ll of a sudden I has a sinkin' sensation somewhere under my vest,
the bumpin' stops, and I feels like I'd shuffled off somethin' heavy. I
had--a billion tons or more! Glancin' over the side, I sees the water
ten or a dozen feet below us. We were in the air. And, believe me, I
reaches out for something solid to hold onto! All I could find was a
two-inch upright, and I takes a fond grip on that. If it had been a
telephone pole, I'd felt better.

My sporty-dressed friend smiles encouragin' over his shoulder. I hope I
smiled back; but I wouldn't swear to it. Not that I'm scared. Hush,
hush! But I wa'n't used to bein' shot through the air so impetuous. I
takes another glance overboard. Hel-lup! Someone's pullin' Long Island
Sound from under us. The water must have been fifty or sixty feet down,
and gettin' more so. For a while after that I looks straight ahead.
What's the use keepin' track of how high you are, anyway? You'll only
bore just so big a hole in the water if you fall.

But it's funny how soon you can get over feelin's like that. Inside of
three minutes I'd quit grippin' the stanchion and was sittin' there
peaceful, enjoyin' the ride. We seemed to be sailin' along on a level
now, about housetop high, and so far as I could see we was as steady as
if we'd been on a front veranda. There's no sway or rock to the machine
at all. I'd been holdin' myself as rigid as if I'd been in a tippy
canoe; but now I took a chance on shiftin' my position a little. I even
leaned over the side. Nothing happened. That was comfortin'. How easy
and smooth it was, glidin' along up there!

Meanwhile we'd taken a wide sweep and was leavin' the yacht far behind.

"Say," I shouts to my aviatin' friend, "how do we get to her?"

But it's no use tryin' to converse with that roar in your ears. I points
back to the boat. He nods and smiles.

"Wait!" he yells at me.

With that he pulls his plane lever and we begins to climb some more. You
hardly know you're doin' it, though. Up or down don't mean anything in
the air, where the goin' is all the same. Only as we gets higher the
Sound narrows and Long Island stretches further and further. And, take
it from me, that's the way to view scenery! Up and up we slid, just
soarin' free and careless. He turns to me with another grin, to see how
I'm takin' it. And this time I grins back.

"About three hundred!" he shouts, puttin' his mouth close. "Eighty an
hour too!"

"Zippy stuff!" says I.

Then he