“Sure, tell me if I’m getting too close to the Falcon’s wings.”
“You have plenty of space.” Presently the two machines were locked in to exchange confidences if they felt so disposed, while Roberta and her mother walked arm in arm to the house. “I suppose you have to take someone in the morning and that is why you have brought Nike home for a visit.”
“No, that’s a wrong guess, Mummy.” They went into the house and Mrs. Langwell glanced anxiously at the girl.
“Sure you are all right, dear?”
“Fine as silk. Fact is, Mummy, the stock-market slump has hit some of our directors, hard, and the company has to reduce expenses. Mr. Trowbridge told me when I came back with my passenger this afternoon.”
“The stock-market slump; why, that was months ago!”
“I don’t know much about it except what I heard you and Dad saying last fall. Is it possible that it still affects business?” Roberta didn’t ask because she was at all interested in the “Bulls and Bears of Wall Street,” but just for the sake of talking. She removed her flying coat and hat and hung them, with a sigh, in the hall closet, wondering a bit sadly how soon she would use them again. She knew that she simply couldn’t leave the beloved Nike idle in the hangar; she would certainly take it out for pleasure, but that was different from being really a part of the great force of men and women aiding in the world’s grand and almost brand new industry.
“Probably,” her mother answered. “Your father was saying only a few nights ago that a good many big business men have gone on with their projects confident that the financial situation would improve, but while it is getting better, the growth is slow and any number of them have had to drop out.”
“Dad didn’t get hit, did he?”
“No dear, he has some stock in various concerns but it is not the kind that fluctuates with an erratic market.”