"Oh, dear!" groaned Uncle Ezra. "More money," and he looked distressed. Then his face brightened.
"I say!" he cried. "There's a busted mowing machine out in the barn. That's got a wooden wheel on it. Can't you use that?"
Lieutenant Larson shook his bead.
"It's no use trying to use make-shift wheels if we are to have a perfect machine, and win the prize," he said. "I must have the proper one. I need ten dollars."
"Oh, dear!" moaned Uncle Ezra, as he took out his wallet, and carefully counted out ten one-dollar bills.
"Couldn't you look around and get a second-hand one?" he asked hopefully.
"No; we haven't time. We must soon start on the prize trip. We don't want to be late."
"No, I s'pose not. Wa'al, take the money," and he parted with it, after a long look. Then he made a memoranda of it in his pocket cash-book, and sighed again.
Several times after this Lieutenant Larson had to have more money—or, at least, he said he needed it, and Uncle Ezra brought it forth with many sighs and groans. But he "gave up."
To give Larson credit, he had really produced a good aircraft. Of course it was nothing like Dick's, and, after all, the former army man was more interested in his stabilizers than he was in the airship itself. But he had to build it right and properly to give his patent a good test, and he used his best ideas on the subject.