Strange indeed were their feelings when, upon looking at back files of newspapers, they read the history of their exploits, recorded with a degree of detail which must have taxed the imaginative resources of editorial staffs to gray hairs; and saw picture after picture taken with their own camera and sent across many a continent in the form of undeveloped film, now to bring before their eyes once more the realism of the moment when they were taken. There were photographs of themselves collectively and individually in many a place now far distant; views of the machine at rest, and of parts of it among the clouds and above them; two views of the fight with the condors; several of Grandpa in various amusing positions; many pictures of foreign places and of natives; illustrations showing the battle with the devil-fish; storms as seen from below, and storms as seen below when flying above them. Even pictures of the wreck of the Clarion, and of Oliver Torrey climbing up the rope ladder, were not missing.
Before the flyers left Panama, Paul received many offers to sell Grandpa to various admirers, but no amount of money could have induced him to part with this faithful little mascot. Oliver Torrey particularly felt that he owed a great debt of gratitude to the monkey.
When the party finally reached New York City, after a non-incidental flight of one night and the major portion of a day, they were given another ovation—one which far outrivaled in volume the one they had received at Panama. The mayor and city officials wished to fête them, but the boys were too exhausted to stand more of such doings; they wished to get home as soon as possible, hide from everybody but those in their immediate families, and just rest—rest—rest. They didn't think they would even care to see their dear old Sky-Bird again for several months.
It would be hard indeed to comprehend the feelings that surged through the flyers as they landed the airplane in the fair-grounds of their own native town—Yonkers—and were greeted by hundreds of familiar faces and voices, to say nothing of the hand-clasps of many old-time friends.
But, after all, the reunion with their own relatives was the cause for the greatest thanksgiving, as we may assume. Both Paul's and Bob's mothers had prepared the choicest of dinners for their famous sons, and that evening the Ross and Giddings families were the happiest and merriest ones in town.
Mr. Giddings and Mr. Wrenn both realized more out of the advertising than the contest had cost them. The former met his agreement by giving each of his flyers five thousand dollars, and his business rival did likewise by Oliver Torrey. Later on, Bob and the Ross boys sold their patents on the Sky-Bird to a large airplane manufacturing company for a sum which promised to make them independent for the rest of their lives.