The spring was soon tightened by means of a monkey wrench. But that did not prevent them all realizing that had it not been for Peggy's acute observation a serious accident might have occurred. This done, even Peggy's anxious glances could not detect any other flaw in the machine. "What time did that aviator fellow say he would show up?" then demanded Jimsy, abruptly. "He should be here now," rejoined Roy. "I've half a mind to start anyhow. I can manage the machine I am very certain." "Oh, Roy!" cried Peggy, reprovingly, "you know you promised aunty that you wouldn't do anything till Mr. Hal Homer got here." "All right, sis," put in Roy, hastily, "don't be scared. I'll stick to my word." "Hullo!" cried Jimsy, suddenly, "there comes an auto now." "So it is," exclaimed the others, as a black touring car came whizzing down the road below them. It soon halted, and a figure in leather garments with gaitered legs alighted and hastened across the fields toward the party clustered about the aeroplane. The car was left in charge of the chauffeur. As Jimsy had guessed, the new arrival proved to be Hal Homer, the well-known cross country flier, from whom Roy had taken some vacation time aviation lessons. "He's awfully good looking," whispered Jess to Peggy, after introductions to the dapper young aviator had been extended by Roy. "Oh, so--so," rejoined Peggy, with a toss of her head. "Maybe you know some one who is handsomer?" questioned Jess with a mischievous side glance of her fine eyes. Peggy flushed under her fair skin. But Jess laughed with good-humored raillery. "Jimsy surely is a good-looking boy," she said, "if he hadn't a pug nose." "A pug nose!" flared up Peggy. "Oh, Jess, how can----" Then she stopped short in confusion while Jess laughed the more at her discomfiture. Young Mr. Homer lost no time in starting operations. He ordered his helpers to secure the machine to a small tree growing nearby by means of a stout rope Roy had brought with him. This done, and the monoplane thus secured from flying away when her engine was started, he set the sparking and gasolene levers and threw in the switch. Roy and Jimsy, the latter acting under Roy's instructions, flew to the propeller. The Golden Butterfly being a monoplane, this was in front of the machine. "Be careful when you feel it start, to leap aside," warned Roy, "or you might be beheaded." "I never lose my head in an emergency," joked Jimsy. But just the same his heart beat, as did those of all of them but Hal Homer's, as he and Roy started to swing the great shiny wooden driving appliance. Once, twice, three times they swung it round, exerting all their force. The fourth time they were rewarded by a feeble sigh from the engine--a sixty horse power motor. All at once--Bang! "Let go!" yelled Roy, jumping backward.