“I don’t like that man,” said Bob, who was usually the most forgiving and good-natured of the three.
“He isn’t very pleasant,” admitted Jerry.
Two days later, had anyone chanced to pass the vicinity of a certain clump of trees, one would have heard some such talk as this:
“Pass that hammer this way, will you?”
“Yes, and heave over that monkey wrench. I never can find it when I want it.”
“I say, which way does the steering wheel chuck face? I’ve tried it every way I know and it doesn’t seem right.”
“No wonder, you’ve got it adjusted upside down. Fat chance we’d have of sailing that way—more like loop-the-loop.”
Then would come a period of silence broken by hammering, sawing or filing sounds and there would come another call for tools placed or misplaced.
The assembling of the airship was under way. The boys had successfully transported it from the freight station in its boxes and crates, and, so far as they could learn, no one of the cowboys was aware of what was afoot, or, it might be said, in the air.