"Why, he's gone to New York."
"Ha! Another sinful and useless waste of money! I never did see the beat!"
"He had to go, on business," answered Dick.
"Humph! Couldn't he write? A two cent stamp is a heap sight cheaper than an excursion ticket to New York. But Mortimer never did know the value of money," sighed Uncle Ezra.
Grit growled again.
"Nephew Richard, if your dog bites me I'll make you pay the doctor bills," warned Mr. Ezra Larabee.
"Here, Grit! Quiet!" cried Dick, and the animal came inside, looking very much disgusted.
Uncle Ezra looked in at the door of the shed, and saw the outlines of the airship.
"What foolishness is this?" he asked, seeming to take it for granted that all Dick did was foolish.
"It's my new airship," answered the young millionaire.