Its headway stopped, as it was still a dozen
feet from the ground, along which Joe had hoped to glide gracefully
to rest. The biplane hung a moment in the air, as if undecided
what to do. Fortunately Joe had shut off the engine when his intuition
told him all was not right. He could not tell what distance the
wheels of the chassis lacked before they would rest on terra firma,
but hoped against hope that they were nearer than they seemed to be.
The machine, losing all impetus, simply sat down with a bump. The
chassis and the under plane smashed with a sound of ripping canvas
and splintering wood. Joe had a good bump, too, but was none the
worse for it physically. He stepped out of his seat before the
boys could run to the wrecked biplane. They were all sympathy and
eagerness to see if Joe was hurt. He had not dropped far, but had
come down with such a thud that even Parks was anxious. Bob Haines
was the first of the Brighton boys to reach the machine. "Are you
all right, Joe?" he called out as he came up.
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