"What did you see, my lad?" asked the farmer with half a twinkle in his eye.

"Something like a story-book ghost," smiled Roy; "it was tall and all in white and clanked a chain."

"Ha! ha! ha!" roared the farmer; "I half suspected as much. Why, that ghost was my old white mule Boxer. He managed somehow to snap his chain last night and we found him careening around the fields this morning.

Don't color up, my boy," for poor Roy's face had turned very red, as the hired men guffawed loudly; "older men than you have been startled at far less. And now, here's the farm, and I'll bet mommer has a fine breakfast all ready for you."

The half-famished boy ate hungrily of the substantial farmhouse fare Mrs.

Ingalls provided for him, and as he ate he made inquiries about the distance to the aviation grounds, which, he found to his dismay, were further distant than he had imagined.

"I'll never be able to make it in time without an automobile," moaned Roy to himself; "what shall I do?"

He cast about in his mind for some way out of his difficulty, but he could find none. Nor could the farmer help him. There were no automobiles in that part of the country, and in a horse-drawn vehicle he would never be able to make it in time.

All at once a queer sound filled the air. The atmosphere seemed to vibrate with it as it does on a still summer day when a threshing machine is buzzing away in a distant field.

"Land o' Goshen, what's that?" cried Mrs. Ingalls running to the door.

"Lish! Lish! come here quick!" she shouted the next instant.

Followed by the old hermit and Roy, Mr. Ingalls ran to the door. But his exclamations at the sight he saw were drowned by Roy's amazed cry:

"It's the Golden b.u.t.terfly!"

"An aeroplane!" shouted the farmer. "By gosh, she's like a pretty bird."

"It's my--our aeroplane," went on Roy; "who can be in it? Oh, if it's only Peggy I may not be too late after all."

He ran out into the door yard of the farm house and, s.n.a.t.c.hing off his coat, began waving it desperately. Would the occupant of the aeroplane see his frantic signals? With a beating heart Roy watched the winged machine as it droned far above him.

All at once he gave a delighted shout. The aeroplane was beginning to descend. Down it came in big circles, while the farmer, his wife and the old hermit gazed open mouthed at it, as if half inclined to run.

But as it drew closer to the ground Roy noted a puzzling thing. A helmeted and goggled person was driving it, evidently a boy or man and not Peggy at all. Who could it be? For an instant a queer thought flashed through his head. Possibly somebody had stolen it and was making off across country with it so as to put it out of the race.

More and more rapidly the aeroplane began to drop as it neared the ground, and before many minutes it alighted in the patch of meadow in front of the farm house, gliding gracefully for several feet before it stopped.

But the rubber-tired landing wheels had not ceased revolving before Roy was at its side.

"Say, who are you, and what are you doing with my aeroplane?" he demanded in heated tones, for the helmeted aviator had not yet even deigned to notice him, but seemed to be busy with various levers and valves.

"Well, are you going to answer me?" sputtered Roy, while the farmer, his wife, the old hermit and the hired men gazed on curiously.

For answer the mysterious aviator raised his helmet and a cloud of golden curls fell about a milk-and-roses face.

"By gum, a gal and a purty one!" cried the farmer capering about.

"Peggy!" shouted Roy.

"Yes, Peggy," cried the girl. "Oh, Roy, what has happened to you? When you didn't come back Jess and Jimsy persuaded me to put on your clothes and at least try the b.u.t.terfly out. But I was so miserable that I could not try her out on the track, so I flew off across country. I saw you waving far below me and--oh, Roy!"

Peggy could go no further and half collapsed in Roy's arms as he tenderly lifted her out.

"Great hopping water millions!" cried the farmer, "if this ain't a day of wonders. This must be ther lad's sister he told us about, and ter think she come flopping down out of ther sky like a seventeen-y'ar locust."

Peggy was quickly her usual strong, self-reliant self again. With indignation blazing in her kind eyes she heard Roy's account of the happenings of the night. At its conclusion she announced with decision:

"We must defeat them, Roy."

"Yes, but how? There's only a scant half hour before starting time if you said they'd changed it."

"Even so you can make it. You must take these clothes, get into the aeroplane and fly back to the track. If you go alone the 'plane will be light and you can make it in time."

"But you, Peggy?"

"I guess I can borrow a dress from Mrs. Ingalls here," said the girl briskly.

"Of course, you kin," put in Mrs. Ingalls, but surveying her own ample form rather doubtfully the while.

"You kin give her one of daughter Jenny's dresses," said the farmer.

"Then that is settled, thanks to you," said Peggy with characteristic decision.

They all entered the farm house, from which, a few seconds later, Roy emerged, clad in the garments his sister had donned a short time before.

He climbed into the aeroplane amid the admiring comments of the farm hands, who, by this time, had come in from the fields, drawn by the wonderful airship, and stood all about it gaping and wondering.

Peggy, in a dress belonging to the farmer's daughter, who was away on a visit, stepped quickly to Roy's side as, after glancing at the clock attached to the front of the aeroplane, he started the engine.

As it started its uproarious song, the farm hands jumped back in affright. But Peggy clasped her brother's hand.

"Win that prize, Roy," she said.

"I'll do my best, little sister."

And that was all, but as Peggy Prescott gazed a few minutes later at the fast diminishing form of the speeding aeroplane she felt that all she had braved and dared that day had not been in vain.

CHAPTER XX.

IN THE NICK OF TIME.

Excitement had reached its topmost pitch on the aviation field. It was but a few minutes to starting time for the great contest, and already four young aviators had their winged craft in line before the judge's stand.

Engines were belching clouds of acrid blue smoke heavily impregnated with oily, smelling fumes. The roar of motors shook the air. Folks in the grandstand and on the crowded lawns excitedly pointed out to one another the different machines, all of which bore large numbers.

Excited officials, red-faced and perspiring, bustled about importantly, while from the top of the judge's stand a portly man bellowed occasional announcements through a megaphone.

Suddenly he made an announcement that caused a hum of interest.