“He knows a lot about one that won’t run,” recalled his mother with a smile.
“He knows enough,” observed Captain Anderson significantly. “If you can spare Andy for a week or so to help me, I’ll go partners, and we’ll see what we can do.”
“I’m sure that is awfully good of you,” exclaimed Mrs. Leighton, “and if you really think Andy can be of assistance, why, of course—”
“But who’s going to fly the thing?” broke in Mrs. Anderson. “Not you,” she added, nodding toward her husband.
Andy’s heart sank.
“It’ll be time enough to bother about that when we need an operator,” laughed her husband. “What’s the matter with Ba? He’s afraid of nothing.”
“And sail away to the Bahamas, maybe,” replied Mrs. Anderson.
The possibility of Andy becoming the aviator seemed not to have occurred to Mrs. Leighton. At her silence, the boy could hardly restrain a yell of delight over the adroit way in which Captain Anderson had managed the thing. As he half rose from the table, Mrs. Anderson’s words fell on his ears.
“Sail away to the Bahamas!”
He dropped back into his chair, his mouth open.