“Yes, it’s a good machine—of its kind,” admitted Jerry. “Of course it isn’t like ours, but it’s got a lot of speed and power, I’ll wager. And look at that gasolene tank. Why they could go several hundred miles with one filling.”
“The Silver Star,” read Bob, as he saw the name of the aeroplane painted on one of the side planes, and on the vertical rudder. “Rather a classy name; eh?”
“It sure is a good machine,” went on Jerry, as he took in the various details. “I wonder if those fellows—Brown and Black—made it themselves, or who did? There are some points about it that are worth copying, if they aren’t patented.”
“Let’s ask ’em,” proposed Bob.
Jerry did not answer. He was looking at the double seat of the aeroplane—for it was built to carry two—and near one of the improvised chairs was a small box, evidently for tools.
The cover of the box was partly raised, and with pardonable curiosity Jerry tilted it all the way back. He was anxious to see all the details possible of the machine that had so interested him and his chums.
As he got a glimpse inside the tool box Jerry uttered a half-suppressed cry of astonishment.
“Look here, fellows!” he exclaimed. “See these queer tools? First time I ever knew an aeroplane operator to carry anything like them.”
“What are they?” asked Bob, peering over his chum’s shoulder.