It began to look as if the record of Ed Rivers' machine would be hard to beat, but from the determined look on his face and his gritted teeth it was evident that Paul meant to try hard.
Before the report of the pistol had died out, the yellow-winged Dragonfly soared upward from Paul's hand and darted like a streak across the red tape, clearing it at the highest altitude yet achieved by any of the models.
"Hurrah!" yelled the crowd.
On and on sped the little Bleriot, while Paul watched it with pride-flushed cheeks.

It was evident that it was going to out-distance the record made by Ed Rivers' machine.

The Boy Scouts set up their Patrol cry: "Kr-ee-ee-ee-ee!" As the little machine settled to the ground, far beyond the grand stand, the officials ran out with their tapes, and presently the announcement came blaring down the packed ranks of the onlookers: "Three hundred and fifty feet!" What a cheer went up then.
"I guess you've got it won.

Congratulations!" said Ed Rivers, pressing forward to Paul's side.
"Thanks, Ed," returned the other; "but 'there's many a slip,' you know, and there are several others to be flown yet." Now came in rapid succession several of the smaller models and freak designs.

Some of these wobbled through the air and landed in the crowd.