"Nothing?" cried Frank in a tone filled with real pain. "Nothing? My soul! It would be six hundred dollars every three days."
"Why pick on six hundred dollars?" asked Bill. "Why not fourteen hundred a week? Those old wells go right on working on Sunday, you know."
Frank slammed down his fork and shoved his chair back from the table.
"Oh, it is a shame!" he cried bitterly.
Both boys looked at him in surprise.
"What ails you, anyhow?" asked Bill.
CHAPTER VI
Jardin left the following week and the two boys tried to settle down into the old groove. Bill spent a great deal of time with Frank, watching the manœuvers on the Field. Frank kept up the study of aviation with surprising earnestness. He had a special gift for it and was really a source of great pride to his instructors. Of course his father forbade long or very high flights, but Frank soon was able to execute any of the simpler stunts that make the air so thrilling.