"I might," said Frank, "provided Horace doesn't charge too much."
"If she won't fly, I will sell her to you for five hundred dollars," declared Horace. "You can tie a string to her, and Bill here can have her to lead around the lot."
"That's a go," said Frank. Everyone laughed, but a look of cunning suddenly flamed in Frank's eyes. He commenced to lay a train for Jardin's anger to burn upon, a sort of fuse leading up to the explosion Frank wished. He cast a quick glance at the others. It was evident that they took the whole conversation as a joke. But Frank, with an arm over Jardin's hunched shoulders, commenced pouring into his willing ears a stream of abuse directed at the makers of Horace's beautiful plane, and an account, invented on the spot, of divers people who had thrown over their planes for just the reason which had so angered Horace. Frank, with his real working knowledge of flying learned at the greatest of schools, was able to talk in a most convincing manner. Horace, sunk in a sullen silence, listened closely.
CHAPTER X
The first week of school, full of adjustments and experiments, passed with the greatest swiftness. The boys were soon accustomed to their surroundings and threw themselves with enthusiasm into their studies and drill. Every possible moment was spent on the aviation field. Bill was learning every quirk and crank of such work as he could do in Ernest's plane without leaving the ground.
The mechanicians still worked on Horace Jardin's plane, but seemed to make no headway. Horace threatened one thing and then another, ready to take the advice of whoever stood nearest. Frank made it a point to be that person as often as possible. He fretted no longer about money, a fact that pleased Bill.
Then Saturday came, and things commenced to happen.
First was the usual rush for the morning mail at eight o'clock. There was a letter from Mrs. Sherman, which Bill carried into the deserted library to read. He always wanted to be alone when he read his mother's letters. They were so dear and so precious, and seemed so nearly as though she herself was speaking to him, that he hated to be in a crowd of careless, chaffing boys.
When he had read half the long, closely written pages, however, he gave a shout and hustling down the corridor to the chemistry room, burst in upon Ernest who was doing some extra work there.