“Do you follow after your father in the invention line, Ben?” asked Mr. Davis seriously.
“I would like to,” answered Ben. “I hardly think it is in me, though, Mr. Davis. I once got up a perpetual motion machine.”
Mr. Davis smiled, so did Ben.
“Yes,” nodded the latter gaily, “it perpetuated until I had to start it again. The only practical thing I ever did was a whistle which I made out of a simple piece of tin.”
“Patented it, did you?”
“Oh, dear, no,” explained Ben. “I made it for a friend of mine. He could warble on it like a mocking bird. I never saw anybody else who could, though. There was a certain knack about it that he could get, it seemed. Can I look over that book, Mr. Davis?”
Ben was soon immersed in the drawings before him. His companion seemed greatly pleased at his interest in them. Once or twice, too, he took occasion to commend Ben for some comment or suggestion he made concerning the models.
“Why,” he said as they came to the last drawing of a superb machine, “you seem to have done some digging in the aeroplane line.”
“Oh, all I know is second hand,” declared Ben. “My father believes that the coming motor is the aeroplane, and has done some experimenting in that line. I have taken a great delight in watching him and helping him. I will have to leave the train in a few minutes, Mr. Davis,” he added. “There is the whistle for the junction now, and I will have to get back to Woodville.”
“Two things, Ben,” said Mr. Davis as he rose from the seat. “It is a big thing for me to get that machine part on time. Here is something for your trouble,” and he handed out a folded bank note.