“How is that?” inquired Andy.
“We figured along the line, didn’t we? If I’d gone to work for old Talbot when I had a chance, you’d have been out and wouldn’t have learned about automobiles and machinery and such, and couldn’t have run an airship and won the race.”
This was queer reasoning. Andy had to smile. He couldn’t feel any way but pleasant and happy with the great airship prize his, however, and he said:
“Well, let that go. What are you driving at, Dale?”
“We’re in hard luck, me and Gus.”
“You look it,” said Andy.
“We haven’t got a cent, we don’t dare to go back home. Gus is sick in an old shed down the tracks, and we haven’t had a mouthful to eat since yesterday morning. There’s no friends here we know but you. I’m just desperate. Loan me two dollars, Andy.”
“Why certainly,” answered Andy.
“I mean five—yes, if you’ll loan us ten dollars till we get work and on our feet, we’ll pay it back.”
“All right,” agreed Andy, “only you’ll have to come up to our camp for it. You know where it is—Parks’ camp.”