“Escaping from the abandoned wreck, the improvised aeroplane made a three hundred mile flight to land and came down in the highlands of Mexico where the daring aviators added further flavor to their novel experiences by rescuing a blind man, long a prisoner among an unknown tribe of Mexican Indians, and preventing his immolation as a human sacrifice on the summit of a prehistoric pyramid.”
The absorbed editor paused and, without lowering the slip he was reading, glanced at Buck over the top of his glasses.
“Are you familiar with the story of how these boys made an aeroplane on a wrecked vessel in the Pacific?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” responded Stewart. “It has been told in the newspapers. There are several books about it and other adventures of these young men.”
“I wish,” continued the editor, “if you know the titles of them, that you would step into some book shop to-morrow and have all of them sent to me.” Then he resumed his reading.
“In the summer of the following year the Airship Boys, including young Russell, the reporter, sailed from San Francisco on a novel Arctic trip. One of the backers of this expedition was Major Honeywell and another was J. W. Osborne, of Boston, a millionaire manufacturer interested in copper mines in North British America. For traveling over the ice a dirigible balloon was carried along. The car of this was a practical aeroplane and ice yacht. This little-heralded dash to the north is said to have reached to within a few miles of the pole. The return was made by way of northern British America where the aeroplane part of the aeronautic outfit was used to discover a marvelous copper mine on an uncharted island in Coronation Gulf.
“Out of their interest in this mine and the profits of their previous flights, the Airship Boys were able to take up the study of scientific aeronautics. This resulted in several marvelous inventions, including the ‘rocket’ engine of ‘Flying Cow’ fame and the subsequent organization last summer of the Universal Transportation Company which was underwritten by J. P. Morgan & Co. Little has been heard of the celebrated aviators since then. That they have not been idle the above story attests.”
When the managing editor finished the galley proof of this brief account of Ned Napier and his chums, he removed his glasses, lighted his cigar once more, reached out his hand for Buck’s story and then laid it on his desk.
“Tell it to me yourself, briefly,” was his order.
“If you ever read what I wrote,” began Stewart attempting to conceal some chagrin, “the ‘lead’ isn’t mine. I guess it was rotten. Some one rewrote it.”