“You’d better invent a model of an excuse for your mother.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Your mother had an idea that an alligator might have eaten you.”
But Andy’s look of disgust disappeared in the other things he had on his mind.
“How about it?” he persisted. “Are we goin’ to make the flyin’ machine?”
“That’s quite a job,” answered the captain. “But I’ve been reading your book.”
“Couldn’t you do it?” exclaimed Andy.
“I reckon I could,” conceded Captain Anderson.
“We won’t need the rudder that you see in the book,” broke in the boy. “The thing I’m tellin’ you about is goin’ to take its place. I’ll make it up there in my uncle’s shop.”