“We hope that you’re right, Major,” answered Ned. “What is the good news?”
“First let me ask you a question. How much did it cost you to build the Ocean Flyer and at what figure do you estimate the time you spent upon it, the only model of its kind yet completed? Your mechanism, parts, et cetera, are, of course, fully protected by international patents. The question is simply: For how much will you sell the Ocean Flyer just as she stands there in our Newark factory?”
“The machine itself cost us about twenty-five thousand dollars, Major. I should say that the market value of the craft itself, allowing compensation for our time and the fact that the airship is absolutely unique, ought to make it worth at least a hundred and fifty or two hundred thousand dollars.”
Major Honeywell was rubbing his hands delightedly.
“Fine, fine! I knew that you would estimate it at about that amount. Boys, what do you say to a prospective purchaser who is willing to pay three hundred thousand dollars spot cash for this single model, leaving the company full patent and all further construction rights?”
“But the machine isn’t for sale at any price,” said Alan quietly. “We intend to use it ourselves immediately, and until we are finished with it, no consideration would tempt us to sell.”
“But, Alan—boys!—think of the sum you are offered: twelve times the actual cost, if the new owners are given immediate possession, and providing you agree not to dispose of another similar machine within a period of one year. You can build another airship just like the Flyer within two or three months at the longest, and you are at liberty to use it yourselves as you may please. To what immediate use can you put the vessel that will in any way compensate for the loss of three hundred thousand dollars in cold cash?”
“Major,” said Alan, “we are deeply grateful for your interest in the matter, but we feel that we can’t look at it as a mere matter of dollars and cents just now. Something a great deal more valuable to us is at stake—the life of Bob Russell, whom you know.”
Then Alan went on to tell Major Honeywell all about Bob’s predicament and how they proposed to save him. The old gentleman’s face grew more and more grave as he listened, and several times he shook his head disapprovingly.
“But, my dear boys,” he exclaimed, after Alan had concluded outlining their plans, “have you sufficiently considered the terrible dangers that you incur by this rash procedure? Quite aside from the momentary probability of aerial mishap, you must realize that the Germans would shoot you without scruple under the circumstances. Moreover, the entire United States government would be powerless to help you if once you were caught in a breach of neutrality laws, as your act certainly would be construed.”