"Well, now you've got the wreckage, what are you going to do with it?" questioned Stanley.
"Offer it to the folks who build flying machines," answered Dick. "I'll write the letters to-night."
With the biplane off their minds, the Rovers rejoined their friends in the automobile, and took a run through the country for fifty miles or more. They stopped at a country hotel, and there Dick treated to cake, ice cream and other refreshments.
The letters to the flying machine manufacturers brought various replies. Several did not care to buy the wreckage at all, while others offered a ridiculously low price.
"This doesn't look encouraging," was Dick's comment. "Boys, I guess we'll have to pocket our share of the loss."
The next day, however, came another letter, one from a young aviator of Worcester. He wrote that he had heard that they had the wreckage for sale and if it was still on the market he would come and look at it.
"Maybe he'll give us a little more than those manufacturers offer," said Sam, hopefully.
The letter was answered, and the young aviator came on the next day, going first to inspect the remains of the Dartaway and then coming up to the college.
"Pretty well smashed," said he, to the Rover boys. "About all that is good is the motor and fittings."
"But that engine is a dandy," said Tom.