“Hurrah! Great news, lads!” shouted the colonel, as he waved a paper over his head, when he could stop his forward movement for a second or two.
“Oh, what if it is about father?” gasped Andy, turning pale, for the unrevealed fate of the daring aviator had always borne heavily on the poor lad’s mind, and in the silent watches of the night he often allowed himself to think of the great joy that would come to him should his parent ever be found again.
Frank turned to him quickly.
“Don’t allow yourself to think it can be that, Chum Andy,” he said, softly, for he knew what the dream was that his cousin kept nurturing deep down in his heart, and also how impossible of fulfillment it must ever be; “I have an idea it’s only something connected with our little adventure of last night. But here’s Colonel Josiah at hand and we shall soon know the worst.”
“Bully news for you, my bold young aviators!” cried the old man as he came hobbling along, his smooth face aglow and his long white hair floating over his shoulders. “And I made ’em do it, too! When they heard about that balloon dropping that message and how Bloomsbury was destined to become famous as the center of aeronautic doings, they just couldn’t hold back. And so they had the printer strike off fifty of these circulars, and they’re going to be posted all around the county.”
“What did I tell you?” said Frank, smiling, but nevertheless he reached for the paper the old man extended with a hand that shook a little.
“Why,” he said, “it’s issued by the Committee on Sports for the Old Home week of this month, when they expect to have all sorts of athletic stunts going on to interest the crowds of people who will flock to Bloomsbury.”
“Just so,” observed the old man, with a broad smile. “And I finally showed ’em what a tremendous thing it would be to have an aviation meet at the same time.”
“An aviation meet!” ejaculated Andy, his eyes almost popping out of his head with new interest.
“And we talked it over,” went on the old man, “with the result that a prize is to be offered to any one who first plants an American flag on Old Thunder Top, landing on the little plateau where the foot of man has never yet trod, from an aeroplane built in Bloomsbury and piloted by Bloomsbury boys!”