Books with title The Aeroplane Boys Flight

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"It was my mistake, Frank!" "How do you make that out, Andy?" "Simply because I was using the little patent Bird monkey-wrench last in our shop, and should have put it back in the toolbox belonging to the aeroplane. The fact that it isn't here shows that I mislaid it. Give me a bad mark, Frank." "Well, I must say it's a queer stunt for you to forget anything, Andy Bird. But with dark coming along, and home some miles away, it's plain that we'll have to let the mending of that wing go till morning."

Excerpt from The Aeroplane Boys: Flight or a Hydroplane Round-UpThen you're another. See What you get for calling me names. But When you've fas tened down that plane so it can't get into trouble, if the wind should rise in the night, perhaps we'd better be hunting up this Felix Boggs, and then start for home.About the PublisherForgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.comThis book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

But the Bird boys won the prize of a silver cup!" "What if they did? It was by a hair's breadth, Mr. Smarty!" "And their monoplane was proven to be faster than the big biplane you built, Puss Carberry!" "Oh! was it? Don't you be too sure of that, Larry!" "Didn't it land on the summit of Old Thunder Top ahead of you and Sandy, in the race that afternoon? Tell me that!" and Larry Geohegan bristled up to the recognized bully of Bloomsbury, while a dozen fellows clustered around on the deck of the big power boat, listening eagerly to this war of words.

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"Come on, Dave!" It was Joel's voice, and Polly pricked up her ears. "'Tisn't going to hurt you. Hoh! you're a 'fraid-cat--old 'fraid-cat!" "No, I'm not 'fraid-cat," declared little Davie, trying to speak stoutly; "I'm coming, Joel," and his little rusty shoes pattered unevenly down the rickety board walk. "Jo-el!" called Polly, thinking it quite time now to interfere. Joel scuttled behind the old woodshed, and several smothered grunts proclaimed his disapproval at the interruption. "Now I know you're up to some mischief," declared Polly, "so you just come into the house, Joel Pepper, and tell me what it is." "'Tisn't," said Joel, loudly insisting. "Don't go, Dave," in a loud whisper. Thereupon ensued a lively scuffle, evidently, by the noise they made. "I must," said little Davie; "Polly called us." "No, she didn't call you," declared Joel. "You stay here. She said 'Joel.'" "Bo-oys!" sang out Polly's voice, not to have any doubt in the matter. "There, she