"Abaris, if you will look in the back of your dictionary, you will note was a Scythian priest of Apollo," said Innis, with a patronizing air at his display of knowledge. "He is said to have ridden through the air on an arrow. Isn't that a good name for your craft, Dick?"
"It sure is. I'll christen her Abaris as soon as she's ready to launch. Good idea, Innis."
"Oh, I'm full of 'em," boasted the cadet, strutting about.
"You're full of conceit—that's what you are," laughed Paul.
Suddenly there came a menacing growl from Grit, who was outside the airship shed, and Dick called a warning.
"Who's there?" he asked, thinking it might be a stranger.
A rasping voice answered:
"It's me! Are you there, Nephew Richard? I went all through the house, but nobody seemed to be home."
"It's Uncle Ezra!" whispered Dick, making a pretense to faint.
"I've come to pay you a little visit," went on the crabbed old miser. "Where's your pa?"