“And I’ve had six hundred hours of flying—without a single mishap,” Karl added proudly. “The monoplane I own is one of the fastest and most efficient machines there are. It’ll do a hundred and fifty miles an hour with no trouble at all.”
“Sounds well enough,” smiled Joe. “Tell us some more.”
During the next few minutes the young aviator explained in detail the plans made for the trip. His machine, he said, could carry four passengers and the pilot, and there was a possibility of adding one more. Just who those passengers were to be, the others could decide. The course they would follow he had mapped out carefully, taking into consideration the possibility of having to land at any time. Norfolk, Virginia, would be the last large American city they would see. From there they would proceed south over the Bahama Islands and Cuba, and then on to the north coast of South America. At Bogotá, Colombia, a stop would probably be made for fuel. They would then continue along the coast mountains (Andes) over Colombia, Ecuador, and into Peru. At Mollendo, a small but important coast town, the air travelers would wait to join the other members of the expedition, who would arrive several days later by steamship.
When Karl had finished, the youths were overflowing with enthusiasm. Their imaginations had been captivated by the prospects of a unique air trip into the Andes. That they could accompany Karl they sincerely hoped.
“Of course,” began Joe, addressing his father, “Bob and I will be among the passengers, will we not?”
Mr. Lewis looked grave. He did not have any too much faith in aviation.
“We’ll see,” he replied. “Your mothers will have to give their consent, you know. It may prove difficult to get that.”
“I think we can bring them around,” Bob said, with an optimism that he was far from feeling, “especially if you and Dad decide to go. And you will, won’t you?”