"He sure knows airplanes," Johnny blurted unwisely.
"Yours must be ready to fly—the amount of gas you're taking to camp."
"She goes in the air—say, good golly, Mary V! How do you know anything about my—er—"
"I hope," said Mary V very mildly, "that I have some brains. At any rate, I have brains enough to wonder how in the world you can afford to build yourself an aeroplane; I haven't heard a word about any rich uncle dying and leaving you a fortune. And I know it takes a tremendous lot of money to build and fly aeroplanes."
"Didn't set me back so much," Johnny bragged. "I didn't have to build one, you see."
Mary V needed time enough to study that statement also. She mounted Tango and waited until Johnny was ready to start with his queer load. "How did you get it—if I may ask?" she began then. "Did Bland Halliday happen along and have a wreck, and sell you the pieces? You want to be careful, because I know he's an awful grafter, and he'll cheat you, just as sure as you live, Skyrider."
"He can't," Johnny declared with confidence. "He's working for his passage—er—"
"Er—yes?" Mary V smiled demurely. "You may just as well tell me the whole thing, now. Have you got an aeroplane? Really truly? I mean, where did you get it? I know, of course, you must have one, or you wouldn't buy all that gas."
"Some deductionist," grinned Johnny, tickled with the very human interest he had roused in himself and his doings. "Where I got it is a secret—but I've got it, all right!"
"Johnny Jewel! You didn't let that Bland Halliday sell you—"