Thus it was an easy matter to roll the big machine from the shed to the level field beyond.

Then Tom ran back and procured some stakes, several ropes, and a hammer, and soon he had the biplane staked fast to the ground, after the manner of a small circus tent.
"Now she can't break loose, even if you do start the engine and the propellers," said he, as he surveyed his work.

"Go ahead, Dick, and turn on the juice!" he cried impatiently.
Dick Rover was just as anxious to see the engine work, and after another critical inspection he turned on the battery and then walked to one of the propellers.
"We'll have to start the engine by turning these," he said.
"All right!" cried Tom, catching hold of the other wooden blades.

"Now then, all ready?
Heave ahoy, my hearty!" he added, in sailor fashion.
Four times were the wooden blades "turned over" and still the engine refused to respond.

It was hard work, and both of the lads perspired freely, for it was a hot day in early September.
"Got that spark connected all right ?" panted Tom, as he stopped to catch his breath.
"Yes," was the reply, after Dick had made an inspection.