Eagerly Billy tore the envelope open. It was from Mr. Stowe.
“Great news. Boys safe. Win the prize for longest flight. Dirigible smashed in storm near Parkerville, Arizona. McArthur and crew safe. Congratulations.
Stowe.“
There is little more to tell. My readers can imagine for themselves the scene when two days later the boys met at Tucson. Over a merry meal they “fought their battles o’er again,” and discussed every strange adventure of their record flight a dozen times. Their parents had been notified of their safety, and were to meet them in Los Angeles.
“Well, this trip certainly has panned out,” said Frank, as the subject of Bart Witherbee and his mine came up.
“And here we are, all together, safe and sound. At one time I thought we were goners sure,” remarked Harry.
“One time!” exclaimed Billy with a laugh. “A dozen at least.”
“I’d like to start out on another trip to-morrow,” exclaimed Lathrop enthusiastically.
“I’d make some new inventions for it,” said Mr. Joyce.
“Here, too,” cried Billy. “Do you think we will have any more adventures?”