"I suppose so," said his father. "But this business has me worried. Let's hope nothing has gone wrong out there."
Reluctantly, all three abandoned their efforts, removed their headpieces, and with a "good-bye" to Tom, who lived in a room at the rear of the station, started for the house. If New Mexico were to call, a light bulb would flash the signal in Tom's quarters, and he would telephone the house.
It was twilight when they reached home, and all three went to their rooms to dress for dinner.
"Tomorrow," said Mr. Temple in parting, "we'll all drive over to church, and then in the afternoon you boys can go to work preparing the airplane, and I'll lend a hand." Mr. Temple was chairman of the Board of Trustees of an old ivy-covered church in a sleepy village some miles away, and never let Sunday pass without attending divine worship.
At dinner the talk was all of the prospective airplane flight to New Mexico. The events of the day were told in detail to Mrs. Temple and Della, Bob's sister. Della, who was an athletic girl of 16, declared she wanted to go with them, but Bob answered rudely, as boys too often speak to their sisters:
"Huh," he said, "you'd just get in the way."
Mrs. Temple made no objections to the proposed trip, but began immediately to lay plans for filling the house with guests during their absence. And in discussion of the details, Della was appeased.
"Say, Bob, why are you so rude to Della?" Frank queried later, in the library, as they awaited Mr. Temple's coming to discuss preparations for the flight.
"Huh, she's not your sister, Frank," said Bob. "Anyhow, I believe you're sweet on her."
"No, I'm not," said Frank hotly, "but she's a good kid and you ought to treat her better."