“Sure—positively,” Kramer answered emphatically.
“Here comes Dad,” Jim declared. “He’s the air-minded member of the family. When the other crate cracked up he got right in touch with your firm and ordered another. Said the K-A couldn’t get along without one. It’s a wonder to me he didn’t order a herd of them.”
“That goes to show you how really progressive he is. Why most men of his generation—a lot of them, anyway, think flying is all nonsense—”
“This is Mr. Kramer, Dad. We just told him we hope he can stay a while and give us instructions in flying.” Mr. Austin glanced questioningly at his son.
“Yes,” Bob added. “Kramer never saw a real ranch, except from the sky. He sat here and almost let the broncs jump over him. He likes horses.” Then Mr. Austin understood what was in the Flying Buddies’ minds so he nodded approval.
“It will give us a great deal of pleasure to have him stay as long as he can, and I am sure that your mother and I shall feel much more comfortable if we are confident that you have had thorough instructions. It seems to me that you boys are a little slow in bringing Mr. Kramer to the house. He has had a long trip, perhaps a hard one, and sitting here is cold work—”
“Oh, I was just telling them some things about the machine. My boss said that if this plane doesn’t suit you, we’ll send another model, sir, but from what you told him over the telephone, he thought this would be the best for your purpose,” Kramer said respectfully.
“The men of your firm must know a good machine,” Mr. Austin smiled.
“Absolutely—but the customer has to be satisfied. I don’t mind telling you that we all feel kind of cocky over a telephone order—”
“What’s the telephone for?” the older man asked.