"Why, I mean that I want you boys to help me build it," replied the aviator coolly, watching out of the corner of his twinkling eyes for the effect his words would have on the boys.
"What's that?" cried the astonished Dunk, unconsciously digging his heels into his pony, which reared, and started off at a brisk canter.
Mr. Hawke smiled broadly. He was growing more and more fond of the enthusiastic and manly Fort Bayard boys, and was especially amused at Dunk's frank expressions.
After going a few rods, the latter got control of his horse and slowed the animal down for the rest of the party to catch up.
"Do you really mean that?" asked Fly with flashing eyes, when they were all riding quietly again.
"Why not? We can get the material here in a week or less. Then we can probably find a machine shop around here to work in, and, when we need it, build a hangar of our own."
"Gee, that sounds bully," exclaimed Jerry.
"You can use our place," volunteered Fly. "We've got all kinds of tools, a bellows and most everything you'd need, I guess."
"An aeroplane could almost be built in a carpenter shop," replied Mr. Hawke. "There's very little metal on them. Mostly good strong spruce, bamboo and well-seasoned woods of different kinds."
"What a chance that would be," reflected Fly, more to himself than anybody in the party. "But, what if it shouldn't be a bird after all?" he asked suddenly, his face growing grave and anxious. "Then we wouldn't need an aeroplane and everything would go to smash."