Tod's father was out in front of the little cabin, a bit pale and shaky, but cheerful. His face lighted up wonderfully when he saw the Skyrocket aground and the two boys safe. He tried to rise to greet them, but had to be satisfied to wave his hand instead. The two boys came running over to where he sat, eager to tell their story.
"What's happened?" Mr. Fulton asked excitedly before they could begin. He was pointing at the newspaper Jerry had been waving wildly as they raced across the open.
"War—maybe—with Germany! But we've more important news than that—for us just now, at least. Telegrams—four of them—look. And an officer's been looking for you——"
"Police?" asked Mr. Fulton gravely.
"Army!" exploded Tod and Jerry together. "Bet it's about the——"
They paused, for Mr. Fulton was not listening to them. He had torn one of the telegraph envelopes open and was reading the brief message, his face going first red and then white.
"What's all the excitement?" demanded a slow voice in which there was a trace of resentment. It was Mr. Harris, who had appeared in the doorway of the cabin.
"Nothing much," answered Mr. Fulton. "Nothing at all. In fact, the excitement's all over. I'm certainly very glad that you balked yesterday on buying that 'pig in a poke,' my dear baronet. It seems," flapping the opened telegram against his other hand, "it seems, my very dear sir, that the American government, being confronted by a situation which bears more than a promise of war, has offered to buy the ideas which are embodied in the Skyrocket."
"Hooray for Uncle Sammy!" shouted Tod.
All the boys had come crowding around, slapping Tod and Jerry wildly on the back and cheering till their throats were hoarse. It was fully five minutes before anyone could make himself heard above the din. Finally Mr. Fulton raised his hand for a chance to be heard, and after one rousing shout of "Three cheers for the Scouts of the Air!" the noisy crew quieted down.