“Were you frightened during the storm?” Jim asked.
“Have to admit that I was quite a bit nervous but when I saw you so cool and managing so easily, and how the plane responded to every move you made with those controls, why, I just naturally couldn’t go on being a coward. It does not seem to me that Bob is over-stating the facts when he says the little plane is the best in two countries. I should say that she is the best in the world to come through such a grilling.”
“Like to go up again?”
“I should indeed. Just think how automobiles and other modern inventions have placed us far ahead of my father’s time. He had to use horses and oxen, and my grandfather did all his traveling, that is, any distance, on the lake-steamers. Sometimes it took weeks, and a storm such as we had this afternoon would have driven the boat into the nearest harbor to wait for fair weather.”
“Gee,” Bob said soberly. “How did those old boys ever get anywhere or have time to do anything?”
“When I was a boy I saw some of their primitive methods, Bob, but they did manage to accomplish a great deal.”
“Some real nice day we’ll give you a joy ride, Aunt Belle,” Bob promised with a twinkle in his eyes. He fully expected that Mrs. Fenton would promptly decline such an invitation, but she looked at the men folk very thoughtfully, then a little pucker came between her eyes.
“Land sakes alive, Bob, you’ll probably have to tie me fast and sit on me to keep me from jumping over-board, but I guess if you all think it’s so fine, I can live through it. After I have the—er—joyous—I mean joyride, I’ll write and tell your mother about it. She said that you took her up several times and now she wants her husband to get a plane.”
“Right you are,” Jim laughed heartily. “Mom’s a good sport and so are you. We’ll bind you hand and foot, and put weights on you, but I’ll bet you will like it as much as Mom did.”
“No doubt I shall,” and Mrs. Fenton didn’t smile over the prospect.