“Well, it was this way, the nearest I can get to it. Farrell and Rollins got into some kind of a quarrel. What it was about I don’t know, but I heard ’em having some hot words, and some other men heard it too. Then, out of spite, what does Farrell do but run the Torpedo into some old building and smash it up, top, bottom and sides. Maybe Rollins wasn’t mad.”
“What did he do?”
“He couldn’t do nothing. He wanted to have Farrell locked up, but Farrell got out of sight. Then Rollins got into some sort of trouble with the aero managers and he got out too. But before he left he told a friend of mine that Farrell had not only wrecked the flying machine but also taken two hundred dollars of his money and his watch.”
“That certainly was a loss,” commented Ben.
“Yes, it was, but, in one way, I don’t sympathize with Rollins. He wasn’t no square man, and it was a mistake to let him enter any of the contests.”
“Is he going to build another flying machine to take the place of the Torpedo?”
“That I don’t know. But I do know one thing—I don’t want anything to do with him,” returned the man.
“Nor I,” concluded our hero.
Mr. Davis and Bob, on invitation, accompanied Ben to Woodville. They put in the first day in a rare whirl of excitement and pleasure. They inspected Mr. Hardy’s Airatorium. They visited the Diebold works, and in the evening they formed a merry gladsome group in the pleasant Hardy home. Ben thought he had never seen his father and mother look so pleased and happy.
Bluff Caleb Dunn walked in on them about nine o’clock. He feigned his usual grim manner, but Ben saw that the hard-headed old fellow was secretly greatly pleased about something.