“That’s a good idea,” assented his father.
Five minutes later the three boys were closeted in the big room above the garage of the Chester home, which served them as a workshop, study and designing plant all rolled into one. The blue prints, aeroplane parts, chemicals, and tools scattered about or ranged in neat racks against the walls in conjunction with a shelf of books on aviation and kindred subjects, the table illumined by movable drop lights shaded by green shades, gave the room a very business-like appearance. It was clearly a place for work and not for play—as a sort of framework newly erected in one corner showed.
“What’s that?” asked Billy, indicating it.
“Oh, just an idea we were working on for a wireless adapted for auto use,” rejoined Frank, “but never mind that now. What’s this wonderful plan of yours?”
“Simply this,” replied Billy briskly, “how’d you fellows like to get $50,000?”
“Would we?” exclaimed Harry. “Lead us to it.”
“You’ll have to lead yourselves,” laughed Billy.
“Oh, come on, Billy, put us out of our suspense. What do you mean?” said Frank.
“Well, my paper, The Planet, you know,” began Billy, “has decided to offer the amount I named for a successful flight from here to San Francisco, or as near to that city as can be attained. There are no conditions—except get there first, or travel furthest.”
“Well?” said Frank.