“You’ve got to let us go!” said Bob to his father, when he and his friends had returned home. “Why, just see what we’ll be missing if we don’t.”
“You may be missing death,” Mr. Holton returned grimly. “But then,” he went on, raising his voice, “the chances are that nothing will happen. Any more, airplane accidents are rare. I’ve almost decided to go myself. It will be a chance of a lifetime.”
“Then—then you mean we can go?”
“I haven’t exactly said so,” the naturalist answered. “There is your mother, don’t forget.”
“Perhaps she won’t consider it so wonderful,” suggested Mr. Wallace, who had been induced to spend the few days before leaving with the Holtons.
Bob’s mother did not at all like the idea when it was put before her later. But she did not protest so violently when she saw that her husband was actually bent on going. After all, his judgment had seldom failed him, and most likely would not now. Then, too, she was somewhat of an air enthusiast herself, having great faith in the development of aviation. And what Mr. Holton did she usually considered fit for Bob.
Joe had more difficulty in securing the consent of his parents, for they were doubtful as to the outcome of such a venture. Mr. Lewis, however, was well acquainted with Karl Sutman, and knew him to be an excellent airplane pilot, besides being a resourceful, well-thought-of citizen. In the end, Joe’s parents consented to the youth’s going, especially when they learned that Mr. Holton and Bob intended to go. Mr. Lewis, however, had already booked passage on a steamship, and could not cancel his arrangement, much as he would have liked to.
The two chums were delighted beyond words.
“It’ll seem strange without your father with us, though,” said Bob. “We all went together on our other trips, and——”
“He’ll meet us in Mollendo,” Joe reminded him, and then added: “Wonder if Mr. Wallace will go in the ’plane?”