“I suppose we’ll have to listen. It’s part of the game,” Pat said. “But not now, my lad.” He rose stiffly from the grass. “You’re mother will be looking for us, and wondering what’s become of us. We’d better get for home.”
“How about continuing in the next issue?” laughed the Captain.
“O.K.” said Bob. “You get the rest of it tonight, whether you like it or not.”
Hal looked up fervently at Bob. “Oh, we like it, Bob. I think it’s a great story. A great story.” The boy’s eyes shown in his pale face. “Golly, Bob, it must be wonderful to be able to do things like that.”
Bob looked uncomfortable as they walked over to the car. “Well, kid, I don’t see why anybody can’t do great things if he’s got grit enough. That’s what it takes—Grit.”
[CHAPTER VI—More About The Eagle]
It was after dinner at the Martin’s. Captain Bill, Pat, and the two boys had gone out to the garden. The Captain and Bob were stretched out in two deck chairs, the Captain’s long legs sticking out a long way past the end of the low foot-rest. Pat lay in the glider, swinging himself lazily, squeaking in a melancholy rhythm at each forward and back push, Hal, who had got permission from his mother to eat dinner with the Martin’s, lay on a rug thrown down on the grass. The dusk was turning to dark, and the Captain’s pipe was beginning to show up as a dull glow in the fading light.
For a while nobody spoke. Then Pat said, “Well, Robert, tell us the end of your story.”
“I’ve been thinking of where to start. We left Lindy over in Europe, coming back to the United States. He didn’t come right back, though. He had to tour about some of the foreign countries, as an ambassador of good will, and get decorated with about every kind of medal that was ever made. It must have been pretty boring for him to go to banquet after banquet, and listen to all those speeches praising him. He must have blushed like anything at some of those flowery compliments. But he stayed calm, and didn’t lose his head and get all swelled up over the receptions and cheers and everything. He knew that everybody meant every word he said, and that they were mighty pleased with him. They gave him all sorts of presents. He could have started a store with them. But I guess that most of them are in the Lindbergh museum now.