The glider was not fastened to the wheels, Templeton’s theory being that, having been started on them at the top of the hill, it would almost at once gain "lift" from the air. So it proved. After a few yards it rose slightly; a little farther on it was quite clear of the ground, and Eves, with legs bent and arms stretched out on the wings, enjoyed for a few brief seconds the exhilaration of aerial flight. Then, however, it began to tilt. Mindful of Templeton’s careful instructions and the preliminary test in the farmyard, Eves tugged at the appointed rope, which should have thrown out an extension of the wing, and, according to Templeton’s theory, have restored the balance. Unhappily the mechanism that had worked so smoothly before now proved treacherous. The machine swerved to the left, and crashed into a bramble-bush in the hedge at the foot of the hill. Templeton rushed down in great agitation, sprang into the hedge regardless of scratches, unloosed the straps, and hauled Eves out. "I say, you’re not hurt, old man?" he asked, anxiously. "I’m pretty well pricked, confound the thing!" said Eves. "The wretched cord jammed." "But the theory’s all right." "Hang the theory! Look here, old man— Hullo, here’s old Noakes." Noakes, accompanied by a thick-set countryman in corduroys and leggings, had come over the crest of the hill just as the accident occurred, and run down almost on Templeton’s heels. "I’ve cotched ’ee," he cried, panting. "You’re my witness, Ted Smail. Cotched in the act, the mischeevious young vipers. I’ll have the law of un." [Illustration: "’I’VE COTCHED ’EE,’ HE CRIED."] "My dear sir, I don’t think it has anything to do with you," said Templeton. "My friend, as you see——" "Your friend, and you too, be a-trespassing on my field and a-ruining my property, and the law’ll have something to say about that." "Ruined a bramble-bush!" said Templeton. "And the bush has ruined my clothes," Eves added. "That there’s my hedge, and you’ve been and knocked a hole in it, and——" At this moment his tirade was suddenly interrupted by a bellow behind him. A bull, excited by the vagaries of the glider, had trotted up from the far end of the field to investigate, and further roused, probably, by Noakes’s loud tones and waving arms, threw down its head and charged. The men scattered. Eves and Templeton made for the gate and vaulted over. Noakes ran one way, his friend another. The bull plunged straight at the glider, sticking in the hedge, and smashed it to splinters. Then it dashed after Noakes, who, seeing no other outlet, flung himself into the ditch below the hedge and scrambled through the tangled lower branches only just in time to escape the animal’s horns. "We must offer to pay Noakes for the damage," said Templeton. "Rot! We haven’t done tuppence-ha’-penny worth; and how do we know it’s his field?"