“We won’t need a thing but what’s right here in sight,” pleaded Andy, “except some cloth and steel wire.”
“I suppose we could get them up at Melbourne—or I could,” conceded the captain, his grin broadening into a laugh.
“Then it’s a go?” urged Andy.
“But I don’t see,” argued Captain Anderson in new doubt, “just what benefit an aeroplane will be to me if we could make it.”
“What good was the aero-catamaran to you? You helped build that.”
The captain could only laugh outright.
“I reckon I did it just to be tinkerin’.”
“Well, you’ll get tinkerin’ to beat the band buildin’ an airship,” exclaimed Andy. “Besides, there ain’t any law against you takin’ a ride in it.”
“Me?” exclaimed the captain. “Me? I’d sail the Valkaria from here to the Pacific. But I wouldn’t trust myself ten feet in one o’ these sky craft.”
The boy followed him outside the boathouse. They could see Mrs. Anderson and Andy’s mother ready for the trip.