But he knew that the _Winged Arrow_ was not yet high enough to find those atmospheric “holes” which sometimes turn a plane over and often cause wreck and disaster. Unlike the smaller flying machines, the seaplane was not likely to take a tail-spin and come down, unmanageable, in that way. But she might buckle and break her back in one of those aerial vacuums. “Is it your opinion, Mr. Swift,” asked the stranger in his too perfect English, “that this plane will be a success?” “My son evidently believes so, and that is enough for me,” returned the old gentleman. “I am no longer active in our business. I could not give a professional opinion upon the matter at this time.” “Ah! You are cautious!” exclaimed the stranger. “I am careful as to whom I talk with—yes,” admitted Mr. Swift pointedly. “Come, sir! you have as good eyesight as I have. Arrive at your own judgments.” He turned away from the stranger then and gazed only at the rising plane. But even he had small idea of what was going on aboard the _Winged Arrow_ at just this time. Tom Swift and Ned Newton were in the bow of the seaplane when she swam out of the cove. The steering gear, as well as the tubes to the mechanician’s compartment, were right at Tom’s hand. Besides, the speed and altitude indicators were here. Like every other plane, the _Winged Arrow_ was a “one-mind” machine. A single individual must govern it all. But, as Tom had long since pointed out, in testing flying machines of all sizes, for safety’s sake, there should be a second man in the cockpit of even a monoplane. In handling this huge plane it would be a reckless thing for only one man to be at the steering and other gear. A second must always be at hand to jump in and take charge if anything happened to the chief steersman, or pilot. Therefore Tom had trained Ned Newton for just this emergency. Ned had learned with the inventor himself as the _Winged Arrow_ was building how to handle the gears which controlled all the movements of the plane. He could start, stop, raise, lower, and otherwise control the huge machine about as well as Tom himself. But on this maiden trip Tom allowed nobody save himself to touch the mechanism in the bow of the boat. When the craft had gained speed enough on the surface of the lake Tom lifted her nose cautiously and, in a minute, sent her sliding skyward. The slant of her nose became more abrupt after a few minutes, and Tom shifted the levers so that the flying boat aimed shoreward once again. At that time she was sailing not many yards above the lake. As she came inshore the pilot began to make her spiral upward. At first her motion was merely a rocking one and not at all unpleasant to the crew distributed about the boat.