“One end of them,” responded Ben. “I’ve ransacked the town for books and magazines bearing on the subject, and as you see I have got a raft of them. They cover mostly the history end of the business, though. I wish I had some of the up-to-date books Mr. Davis showed me.”
“What you read now will fit in all right to that later,” remarked Mr. Hardy. “Get as familiar as you can with your subject in a general way, Ben. You manage the theoretical end of the business, and when you come back from the aero meet we will join forces on a practical demonstration of the science.”
“Will you, father?” pressed Ben eagerly.
“By the time you get back I will screen off a space next to the work shed, and we will see what we can do in making an airship,” continued Mr. Hardy. “You have talked over the subject so much, I am inclined to take a flier myself—not up in the air, Ben, but in an inventive way.”
Ben was more filled with enthusiasm than ever after that. He had been made doubly happy during the week at receiving a handsome watch, bearing a pleasing testimonial in script on its inner case, for his bravery in saving the auto works from possible wreck.
Ben was not troubled any further by Dave Shallock. He heard that his father, the discharged engineer, was loafing about some low drinking places in the town. Shallock was making all kinds of foolish boasts as to his ability to get a new and better place from “old Saxton,” as he designated him. He hinted at a certain powerful influence he had with the manufacturer. So far his bragging had brought no results.
That evening, just about dusk, our hero started from home after supper for a downtown stroll. There was a short cut across a square which had once held a handsome residence, burned down a few months previous.
The high hedge fence, broken in places, still lined the front of the grounds. As Ben neared this he paused, quite startled. Some one had made a bold rush through the hedge and crouched in a stealthy manner on its other side, as if trying to hide.
“Why,” murmured Ben in some astonishment, drawing behind a bush, “it is Tom Shallock!”
Ben wondered what the discharged engineer was up to. He soon learned the motive of his sudden rush from the public street. Almost immediately a sharp mandatory voice beyond the hedge shouted out: