“Uncle Guy,” he said, “we had an idea that you and your friends would want to have a look at the Loon when you got here. So we’ve kept her in working form. I suppose the English gentlemen will be late sleepers in the morning. It’s pretty late now but don’t you think you had better run out now to the hangar and look over the machine? Then we can get busy knocking the monoplane down in the morning.”
“Oh, we’re not in such a rush to get away, Frank. We’ll give you time enough. Besides, my friends are quite likely in their tubs by this time.”
Mr. Graham had stepped aside to speak to a passing friend and Frank took advantage of the further delay.
“Have you time to tell us who they are, Uncle Guy?” he asked. “We had our notions but we are all twisted.”
“Not disappointed, are you?” was Mr. Mackworth’s answer. “I know what you mean. You were looking for stage Englishmen—cockney young bank clerks or “H”-less old esquires. But you ought to know Lord Pelton or his family—”
“That’s the young one?” asked Phil to be sure they were right.
Mr. Mackworth nodded his head.
“Lord Pelton has just left the university. The family estates are in Staffordshire. Of course, he is rich; but that is neither here nor there. He loves the outdoor life; is a yachtsman and especially fond of shooting. He was after tigers in India when I met him, both of us guests of Captain Ludington. The captain, as you can guess, is an army man. He is in the India service and just home on leave. He’s really the one that put us up to this trip. He has heads, horns and skins enough to start a taxidermist shop. He still has two big hunts on his program, he says. This summer he wants the head and black horns of one of our mountain goats and the head and horns of a Bighorn ram. This winter, or some other winter, he’s going for musk ox and moose.”