“He wasn’t making fun of it,” replied Jerry. “I was laughing at the idea of you expecting to sail through the air with a machine so heavy it takes four men to lift it, especially when you haven’t any lifting power.”
“Oh, I s’pose you know a lot about airships?” sneered Noddy.
“I know enough about ’em to know that a machine heavier than air can’t rise unless there’s something to give it a lift.”
“Aw, you think you’re awful smart. But you wait. When you see me sailing around at the carnival you’ll sing a different tune.”
“Maybe,” admitted Jerry good-naturedly. “I hope you do fly, Noddy, and don’t break your neck.”
“I—I didn’t know you didn’t want me to tell about the Firefly, Noddy,” remarked Andy, peering out from around Jerry’s stocky form.
“Yes, you did, and I’ll fix you the first chance I get. You wait.”
“Andy, if he bothers you just let me know,” spoke Jerry significantly. “Don’t let him worry you. If you attempt to injure Andy for what he said to-day you’ll have to reckon with us, and you can put that in your gasolene engine and use it for fish bait,” added Jerry, looking at the bully.
“Aw, you think you’re smart,” was Noddy’s half-growled retort. “But I’ll show folks what I can do. You’ll wish you had a machine like mine when you see how it works. You’re jealous, that’s all. You’re mad because you haven’t got an airship.”
“Sure we are, Noddy,” answered Bob with a smile. “But we’re going to have one.”