“Are you interested in airships?” asked the man.
“Very much so,” was Jerry’s answer. “We would like to see your model, Mr.—ah——”
“Glassford is my name—Rupert Glassford.”
“Why didn’t you bring your model here to exhibit it?” asked Bob.
“Because the committee would not let me. I offered to, but they said they only wanted real machines that would sail through the air.”
“Like Noddy’s tin fly,” spoke Ned with a laugh.
“Yes, that’s a sample of some of the freaks they allowed to be exhibited here,” went on the man somewhat bitterly. “But a real airship, built on up-to-date ideas, even if it was only a model, they wouldn’t admit. If I could have shown it perhaps I could have induced some rich man to put up money enough to build one. As it is, I’ll have to wait—and see others get ahead of me, perhaps.”
“Maybe we could help you,” said Jerry quietly. “How much would it take to build your motor ship?”
“More than you boys could raise, I’m afraid.”
“You don’t know how much these boys can raise!” exclaimed Andy Rush admiringly. “They own a gold mine.”