“Don’t say that, Mr. Davis!” cried Bob, almost at the point of tears. “Surely it can be repaired.”
“I don’t know how,” dissented the aviator. “That fixing was made from a special model. It took a week to make it, and the mechanic who assisted me in its construction is five hundred miles away.”
“Let me look at it, please,” suggested Ben, and he went over the broken parts of the device critically.
“Mr. Davis,” he said, “I don’t want to hold out any false hopes, but if anything can be done towards fixing this I know the way.”
“You think it can be repaired?”
“Or replaced—yes, sir.”
“Within twelve hours?” pressed the aviator anxiously. “Remember, time is the main point in this difficulty.”
“Yes, I know that,” assented Ben, studying the device. “I think my father can help you out.”
“But the place where he works will be shut down by the time you reach Woodville.”
“You had better let me try what I can do, Mr. Davis,” said Ben.