Andy would not have dreamed of doing this only for the fact that he knew Percy and his shadow, Sandy, were aware of the plight of the precious flier.  And while Frank was inclined to partly believe that the Carberry boy might let up in his mischief-making ways for awhile at least, after all they had done for him up on Old Thundertop, Andy could not bring himself to trust the other further than he could see him.  He believed that the nature of Percy was so “rotten” as he called it, that, given a chance to injure his successful rivals, he would shut his eyes to all sense of gratitude, and just lie awake nights trying to get the better of them, by fair means or foul.

Andy also knew that the other was particularly chagrined, because he did not know what manner of a new flier the Bird boys had in hand now.  He had resorted to various expedients in order to find out, but all without success.

On this account, if no other, then, Andy believed that the others would be apt to come out here during the night to examine the hydroplane with the aluminum pontoons under its body for floating on the water; and perhaps to slily injure it in such a fashion that it would break down when next Frank and Andy mounted into the air.

It happened that they had alighted close to one corner of the big field, though in plain view from the pike.  Andy had noted a clump of trees conveniently near, and already his mind was made up that he and Felix would camp there, to pass the night in alternately keeping watch and ward over the precious aeroplane that lay there like a wounded bird.

Felix was quivering with eagerness.  This was like a picnic in the humdrum life of the farm hand.  Except when the circus came to town, or there was a Harvest Home day, poor Felix knew little beyond the eternal grind of getting up before dawn, and working until long after sunset.

First of all, Andy walked around the stranded aeroplane, and took occasion to explain how it worked, using as simple language as he could find, because Felix was not at all up in professional terms, and would not have understood, had the other spoken as he might have done when talking with a fellow aviator.

Then they sought the trees, and spreading their heavy blankets so as to make as comfortable a seat as possible, started to talk in low tones.

The bright moon hung there in the sky, and it seemed as though every foot of the big meadow could be scrutinized just as well as in the daytime; but Andy knew from experience how deceptive moonlight can be, and how cautious one has to be when trying any difficult feat at such a time.

“I’ve heard people talk about reading by moonlight, and how they could tell a friend half a mile away,” he remarked to Felix; “but let me say that it’s all a humbug.  There never was a brighter night than this, I reckon you’ll agree with me, Felix; and yet look at that stump not a stone’s throw away; you couldn’t say now whether it was a cow lying down, a horse, a rock, or a stump, which last I take the thing to be.  Am I right about that.”