"Of course," chimed in Dunk. "We could fly right after him then."
"That would be the way to do it," said Mr. Hawke, pleased with their enthusiasm. "Can't you manage to build a machine here at the fort?" he added.
"Mebbe Mr. Phipps would help us out," cried Fly at once, taking the suggestion seriously.
"That's right," assented Jerry gravely.
"But we don't know nothin' at all about it," said Dunk.
"Well, you boys come up to my room to-night," responded Hawke. "I'll show you something you'll be interested in. Come along and bring your friends. I suppose there are some other boys around here."
"You bet; three more in our crowd. They're all bugs on aviation too," Dunk assured him. "We want to get the Boy Scout aviation badge."
"Bully for you. That's the kind of talk I like to hear." Hawke gave Dunk a friendly slap on the shoulder. "Now, I'm going to spend the afternoon with your father and Captain Crawford. Good-bye till to-night."
"Ain't he a peach?" exclaimed Fly, when Hawke was out of hearing.
"He's a looloo! Gee, this is luck. Aviator—scout master—everything nearly," agreed Jerry warmly.