“I say, old man, look.” Bob held out his message eagerly, for making things grow and improving the land on the ranches in Texas was his chief ambition. “Come along—”
“Wait a minute. I’ve got something I can work on here. Suppose you take the plane and look after the onions, or whatever it is. I’ll stay and see if I can get any results with this. You don’t mind flying alone, do you? They’ll keep their eyes on the ‘Lark.’ The radio-television can be installed and when you get home you can show me the works.”
“Suits me, but Jim, bet you are going to miss something great—why, you know farmers—”
“Sure I do. They have no idea how much more they could do with their land. I know your whole spiel, old hayseed,” Jim laughed.
“If it wasn’t for the farmers you wouldn’t get anything to eat,” Bob retorted good-naturedly.
“That’s why I like them so well. Fly away, little boy, fly away,” Jim urged, and a few minutes later he was in his own room, his coat off and an array of books opened before him.
Carefully he removed the apparatus and set to work. He glanced up as the plane thundered into the sky, and although he would have enjoyed going along, he was even more familiar with the great Laboratory and its workers than Bob was, so he did not mind remaining behind. He was so absorbed in what he was doing that the hours slipped by and it wasn’t until a servant brought in an attractive looking lunch tray that he remembered the two De Castros had said they would not be home for the midday meal. They had made the trip to the power-plant in the huge limousine because it would be most convenient that day, and their own private plane was left in the hangar, which was built to accommodate three machines. Of course the plane was not so well equipped as the “Lark,” but she was the last word in flying machines as modern inventors could make them. The night of the “stage volcano” the family’s first plane had been stolen, but it had proved so useful that Senor de Castro immediately purchased another. This one he kept under guard both at home and at the works so that her instruments could not be tampered with and her fliers could not get into such dangerous situations as that stormy night when the compass had played them false because the needle hand had been deflected. For no reason at all those things slipped through Jim’s mind as he ate his solitary lunch, but when it was finished he turned his attention to the task at hand, and everything else was dismissed.
“Senor, please—” Jim looked up and saw the servant, his face deeply anxious and through his mind flashed an idea that something had happened to Bob.
“What is it?” he demanded quickly. Glancing at his watch he noticed that it was nearly the middle of the afternoon.
“A gentleman—most urgent,” the man apologized. Instantly the boy was on the alert.