“Ayre, Ohio,” said David.
“Ayre!” said Ryan. “Why, that’s where Cram is bound. That’s funny! By golly, I bet you are both set to try that examination at the Goodlow Plant.”
“I am, at any rate,” said David. “I don’t know about Cram. He didn’t put out any information.”
“Afraid you might cramp his style. That’s him all over. You might jump off the train ahead of him, and get the first taxi, and reach the plant first, and grab off a job as vice president.”
“Are you going there, too?” asked David.
“Yes, I am, as it happens, but not for that apprentice course, worse luck. I haven’t enough education. I want to land a job as mechanic. I just can’t keep away from the flying machines, Ellison, and,” he added, thrusting out a stubborn jaw, “if I get a chance down at Goodlow’s, I’ll bet my bottom dollar that I will make a swell mechanic. I’ve nothing at all above the collar,” he grinned, “but I own a damn good pair of hands.”
“You will do,” laughed David. “Here’s hoping we both get in. We’ll see something of each other if we do. I’ve got to write a note to my mother; see you later.”
“Sure, sure!” said Ryan, beaming. “I camp in the smoker. So long!”
He watched David leave the car.
“Well, Red, we like that bozo, don’t we?” he told himself. “True blue, if I can read a man, and a gentleman born. As my mother says, the mark of character shows on a man, no matter how many overcoats he wears.”