“Looks as if the American Aeroplane Company hadn’t got into business any too soon, don’t it?” exclaimed Mr. Atkinson, good-humoredly.
Roy handed the president the clipping with a sigh.
“Isn’t it great?” he exclaimed, shaking his head. “Reads like a story out of a book. Camping on an island in the Gulf of Mexico; fishing, swimming, boating and oranges and things. I suppose the club’ll fly all over the Everglades now—when it gets its airship.”
“Well,” laughed Mr. Atkinson, “I don’t see that the club has much advantage over you.”
“Yes, I know,” replied Roy, a little ruefully. “I wouldn’t exactly trade with those boys, but then, you know, I’m goin’ to be all alone. I won’t have any other boy with me.”
“I suppose that does make a difference,” added the man of business.
“All the difference in the world,” exclaimed Roy, “if you’re lookin’ for fun.” Then his voice changed; he threw off his disappointed look and added cheerfully: “But business is business. I’m satisfied. Only—” and he smiled, “if I wasn’t just starting for Utah, I’ll bet I could go down there and sell those boys an aeroplane.”
“I haven’t any doubt of it,” answered Mr. Atkinson.
It was a curious coincidence that, hardly had this account of Roy Osborne’s remarkable adventures been written, than a story came on its heels that found in Roy an enthusiastic reader. This was the narrative of the adventures of the members of the Anclote Boat Club, entitled, “The Boy Aeronauts’ Club, or Flying for Fun.”