“Oh, well, it was the only thing to do,” was the modest answer. “I guess we’ll head for home now, and get a nerve-bracer in the shape of some ice-cream soda, or something like that; eh, fellows?”
“Sure,” agreed Bob and Ned.
“Wow! Nothing like it—scoot along—over the water—up in the air—jump over their heads—down again—sail along—turn a somersault—rush at ’em—scare ’em to death—whoop-de-doodle do! Wow!” Andy Rush was fairly quivering with poorly-repressed excitement.
They reached Cresville without further incident, made a good landing, and received the congratulation of many friends who gathered around the barn on Jerry’s premises, as soon as it was learned that the Comet had returned.
“Did it work all right?” Mr. Slade was anxious to know.
“Couldn’t be better, dad,” replied his son.
“Then are you soon going—” The merchant did not finish, but they knew what he meant.
Mr. Slade was exceedingly anxious to get into communication with Mr. Jackson, and his son, seeing a worried look on his parent’s face, asked:
“Are things any worse, dad?”