"I sure ought to grin now, then."
"We're not licked—not by a long shot!"
"Yes we are—by about twenty-four hours. While you were gone I got word from the blacksmith. He says he can't possibly have that propeller shaft we found was snapped, welded before to-morrow afternoon late. Not if we're to have the other things he promised. He's lost his helper—quit him cold."
"No!" exclaimed Jerry, his heart sinking at least two feet. Then, with sudden suspicion, "Do you suppose——"
"I know it," interrupted Mr. Fulton. "Our two friends are working every scheme they know. Blocking our blacksmithing was one of their easiest weapons. I'm only surprised they didn't do it before."
"What can we do?"
"Submit gracefully. But I just can't face those two doubters. First they were so enthusiastic and then so suspicious, that I can't be satisfied unless I convince them. But the stuff's all off—and I told Lewis and Harris to come out to-morrow afternoon at three-thirty to see the Skyrocket make good all my claims!"
"Can't you beg off and get a little more time?"
"They'd be willing enough, I suppose. They don't seem to be in the slightest hurry. But there's that second option that begins operations after to-morrow. No, there's no loophole. All we can do is just peg ahead, and if the blacksmith comes through sooner than he expects, we may have a bare chance. I just sent Tod in to lend a hand."
The blacksmith did do better than his word, for Tod came back late in the afternoon bearing the mended shaft and two smaller parts that were urgently needed.