“After 1909, their point proved, the Wrights did very little flying. They spent their time in engineering problems, making improvements on the planes that they were designing and manufacturing.
“They did some more experimenting with gliders, but this was in order to perfect the art of soaring.
“In May, 1912, Wilbur Wright died, and broke up the famous partnership that had existed for so many years. Since his death his brother has lived quietly. He has not flown, and has acted as advisor to his company as they turn out more and more modern planes. He is one man who has lived to see a thing that he started himself grow into a blessing to mankind. And if the airplane isn’t that, I’d like to know what is.”
“I think so,” said Bob.
“Who are you to think so?” asked Bill, sitting up very suddenly.
Bob was non-plussed for a moment, but then saw that his uncle was joking, and laughed. They were interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell.
“Well,” said the Captain, “who could be out in weather like this?”
They heard the front door open, voices, and then the closing of the door. In a short while the footsteps of Mrs. Martin sounded on the steps, and she entered the library.
“A telegram for you, Bill,” she said, and handed it to him. “My, you three look cozy up here. I suppose you’ve been yarning, haven’t you?” She gave her brother a playful poke.
Captain Bill, who had risen when his sister came in, offered his chair before he opened the telegram. “Join us, won’t you, Sis?”