“Why, hello, Lathrop Beasley,” exclaimed Frank, with all the cordiality he could muster at seeing who their visitor was,—and that was none too much, “what are you doing here?”
“I guess you’re surprised to see me,” rejoined the other.
“I certainly am,” replied Frank.
“Why don’t you ask me to come in,” went on the other, “you’re a hospitable sort of fellow—not.”
“I beg your pardon, Lathrop,” apologized Frank, “won’t you come over to the house and sit down awhile?”
An unpleasant sort of smile broke on the other’s face.
“Oh, so you’re afraid to let me see your aeroplane are you? Well, I don’t know that I care so much to anyway. Since you fellows left New York I have been made president of the Junior Aero Club and have designed a ’plane that can beat anything you ever saw into a cocked hat,” he exclaimed.
Frank smiled. He was used to Lathrop’s boasting ways and at the Agassiz High School which they had both attended had frequently seen the other humbled. Now when Lathrop said that he didn’t care about seeing the Golden Eagle II, of course he was not telling the truth. He would have given a great deal to have even caught a glimpse of her. In fact, when that morning he had heard that the boys’ aerodrome was once more occupied, he had determined to walk over from his home, which was a splendid mansion standing on a hill-top not far away, and take a look at her for himself. That Frank should have objected to showing him the craft was an obstacle that never entered his head.
“Oh, come, Frank,” he went on, changing his tone, “let me take a look at her, I won’t tell anyone about it. What are you so secretive for?”
“I myself should be glad to let you see the successor to the Golden Eagle that we are building,” replied Frank, “but my employers might not like it.”