“It looks to me as if I shall certainly have to learn to fly if the other plane is neglected for I expect that you boys will scorn my purchase,” Mr. Austin told them.
“We do not scorn your purchase, Dad, but learning to fly isn’t a half bad idea. While Mr. Kramer is here, why not have him give you lessons? He’ll be glad to.”
“And Mom, too,” Bob added.
“That is an excellent idea,” Mrs. Austin agreed heartily. “I have read of women doing remarkably well and I should like to try.”
“Hurrah for you,” the boys shouted.
“We still have unopened packages,” she reminded them, so they trooped into the house, and presently were having a gala time as gifts were distributed by Bob, who was rather glad that he was the youngest member of the family, therefore entitled to that privilege.
After the feast early in the afternoon, they wrapped Mr. Kramer warmly in blankets so he couldn’t possibly take cold, then he was seated on the fence of the corral from which vantage point he could have a first class view of the rodeo put on by the men of the K-A and the Cross-Bar ranches. Jim brought him some peanuts, so it would seem like a real circus, and the young man from the north announced when the last horse had made his bow, that it was the best he had ever witnessed.
“Seeing a horse do stunts like that makes me admire them no end, but it also makes me feel that I am more at home in a plane. They do not buck and snort—”
“They don’t,” Bob interrupted. “I say, where did you learn to fly? In a kindergarten? The ones Buddy and I were taken up in did more kinds of fan-fishing, and jumping than any bronc.”
“Well, of course they do put you through a course of stunts,” Kramer grinned.