“Rob, are you awake,” came his father’s voice up the stairway.
“Yes, and I’m ashamed of myself for sleeping so late,” was the lad’s rejoinder. “Gee whiz, half-past nine! I’ll be down in ten minutes.”
The lad was bathed and dressed in record time, and in a few minutes over the promised time made his appearance in the living-room. Lieutenant Duvall rose and greeted him warmly, as he came in. He overwhelmed the boy with his thanks and congratulations.
“It was a fine act—a splendid thing to do,” he said, enthusiastically. “Mr. Blake, you certainly ought to be proud of such a boy. Rob, I have sent a telegram to Washington to-day. Won’t you come out to the experiment station with me and watch some flights while we wait for an answer?” Then seeing the puzzled look on Rob’s face, he broke into a smile.
“You see,” he said, “the telegram concerns you and your plucky young chums. The Department will not pass such bravery by without taking official notice of it.”
Rob colored with pleasure as he accepted the invitation. After a hasty breakfast they set out in the officer’s auto. On the way Merritt and Tubby were called for, and it was a happy party that went spinning over the road toward the old mansion. The air was clear and still, the sea smooth and sparkling under a cloudless sky, and in the atmosphere was the promise of summer.
“A perfect day for flights,” said the lieutenant, “and a perfect day to try a few bomb-dropping experiments.”
“Then you haven’t blown up the old Vesper yet?” said Rob.
“No. She holds together as if she were built of steel instead of wood. I tell you what, we ought to make this day a memorable one; I’ve got an idea in that direction.”
“What is it?” inquired Rob, watching the officer’s twinkling eyes.