“I shall want to see you again as soon as I get that document in the pocketbook to the lawyers,” said the gentleman. “The airship race is to-morrow?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I will keep track of you through Mr. Parks, and probably meet you day after to-morrow. I hope you win the race, Nelson, and get the prize. You deserve it, my boy. If you fail, do not get discouraged. You have some good friends, and I am one of them.”
“You have shown that,” said Andy with feeling. “I wouldn’t have missed the race for a good deal.”
Andy entertained his companion considerably by a recital of his adventures three weeks previously when he had helped the goose farmer get his product to market.
“Just yonder is where I met him first,” explained Andy, as they passed over a bridge crossing the river. “It’s a straight road to the Collins farm now, but not very even.”
“I hope we find things as you expect,” said Mr. Webb.
“I think we will,” answered Andy cheerfully.
It was about an hour later when they rounded a curve in a beautiful country road.
“Just beyond that grove of trees,” said Andy, “and we come in full view of the Collins farmhouse. Now we can see it—Why, I—don’t—understand—this.”