“May I ask where the power control comes from? but I suppose it comes from here,” Jim said.
“It did for today’s demonstration. There are five stations in the world; four beside this one of mine. One is in South America, one in India, one in China, and the other in England.”
“I suppose there are more planes like this one,” remarked Jim.
“A few.”
“Well, jinks—I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Just the same, we do think it’s mighty good of you—”
“That’s all that is necessary. Now, I must go inside. Zargo will tell you how she works, then I expect, although I regret that you cannot pay me a visit this morning, that you would better get back, for you are A.W.O.L., and Mrs. Austin will be anxious.”
“She sure will, and Jim, they are waiting to open the packages,” Bob reminded his step-brother.
“We’ll hustle.” It took Zargo only a few minutes to point out the different parts and explain their use. At last the two were again closed in the snug little cabin and Jim was in the pilot’s seat. He had no difficulty getting home, but when they dropped down by their own house, the elder Austins were looking for them.
“See what Santa Claus brought us,” Bob shouted. Then the gift had to be admired, and although the two grown-ups thought it was a pretty extravagant one, they could not protest against its acceptance.