But Pat had turned to Hal. “Well, lad, you’re next.”
But Hal said what he had been rehearsing for many minutes, in fact, ever since Bob had taken to the air. “Don’t you think it’s rather late? We haven’t had any lunch. Maybe we could go up again after lunch.”
Captain Bill, who knew the struggle that was going on in Hal’s heart, and who was getting hungry anyway, said, “Lunch. That’s the idea. We’ve got a great picnic lunch, Pat.”
“Lead me to it,” said Pat.
“Knew that would get you,” laughed the Captain.
They left the plane in charge of a mechanic, who was to look after it, and went over to the automobile that the Captain had parked. They decided, on Bob’s suggestion, to eat on a grassy slope from which they could see the airport.
“I’ve got an idea,” said the Captain. “You can start your story about Lindbergh.”
“I’m ready,” said Bob, “if you’re ready to listen. I think I know the story backwards and forward.”
“Begin at the beginning, always,” the Captain warned.
They reached the spot where they had chosen to picnic, and settled back contentedly in the long grass to hear part of Bob’s story before lunch.