"But how can you get hold of the miracle?" he asked. "What's your scheme?" Then the artful Yankee unfolded to the still more artful Asiatic his plan--a plan so simple that even the artful Asiatic began to feel prosperous. Some pleasant morning and very soon, while talking with Cyrus, Luther would buckle on the little machine, as if to sail about the barn. Cyrus would probably consent, as on two previous occasions. Then he, Luther, would turn the button too far, as if by accident, pretend to lose control of the machine, and sail up through the big skylight of the barn, which was always open in pleasant weather. He would wriggle his elbows as if trying to regain control of The Thing. Once up in the air, above the roof of the barn, he would steer in the direction of a certain pond, two miles away, all the time working his hands and elbows as if trying to get back to earth. "Are you sure you can do it?" said Katz. "You might really lose control if you didn't keep your head." Luther smiled. "Oh, I can do it all right! I have no idea of steering for heaven before my time. You see I've already done it, and I guess I did it about as well as Alton himself. It's really as easy as driving a Ford--and lots more fun. Why, Pussy, it's like being a bird!" Katz nodded. "Yes, it sounds good. But where will you go when you once get up?" "To the big pond, three miles off. It's always a deserted place--especially forenoons. I shall land in a little cove I know, unstrap the machine and hide it in the woods there. Then I shall wade comfortably into the shallow water and lie down for a minute,--with my clothes on." I. Katz's eyebrows went up. "I see; I see! Bright idea! The machine carried you into water and you had to swim ashore." "Even so." "And you lost the machine, which is somewhere in the mud at the bottom of the pond." "Yep." "And you'll hurry back to your friend while still wet, so he'll know that what you say is true!" "You've got it. And that afternoon I'll bring the invention to your shop." I. Katz, of the muddy complexion, stroked his Oriental nose and nodded approval. His comprehending eyes lingered for an instant on Luther's face with a look that indicated admiration and a friendly feeling. But the unflattering thoughts it covered were not divined by the New Englander. * * * * * It was decreed by incorruptible Fate that Luther's opportunity should come the very next morning. Cyrus was at work in the barn. Dr. Alton, sitting just outside the door in the shade of the building, was reading a war article in a French journal that some one had sent him from Europe. Luther moved idly about, as if to pass the time. At a moment when he saw Cyrus especially absorbed in his work--inside the big iron cigar--he took up The Thing and adjusted the straps about his shoulders. "I am going to float around the barn," he said, "and see how the roof looks."