"Oh, hullo, Rob," responded the other. "I was wondering who that was hanging over the gate. Why, I'm going to Paul's house. I'm going to talk over that aeroplane model contest with him. I think that we stand a chance to win if Jack Curtiss doesn't make good his boast."
"What was that?" inquired Rob.
"Oh, he says that he is going to build an aeroplane that will beat us all."
"And have it ready in a week?" was Rob's astonished query.
"That's what he says," responded Hiram. "It all looks kind of suspicious to me. Fifty dollars is a large enough sum to tempt Jack to do almost anything. Well, so long. I've got to hurry along. I'm late now."
And the lad hastened away to keep his appointment.
Rob was about to go into the house and get a book, when his attention was arrested by a figure coming up the street at a smart pace whose outlines somehow seemed familiar to him. The next minute his guess was confirmed, when a hearty voice hailed him:
"Waal, here I am, lad—all shipshape and in first-class trim. Now, what is it? What do yer want? Yer didn't explain in the note, but old Captain job Hudgins'll always stand by a shipmate in distress."
"Why, whatever do you mean, captain?" exclaimed Rob, amazed, and thinking that the captain must have taken leave of his wits. "Who do you mean is in distress?"
"Mean?" echoed the captain, in his turn, it seemed, surprised. "Why, that note yer sent me. Here it is—all written on one uv them new-fangled machines."