As yet the wonderful monoplane was something of a mystery. It was housed in a long, low building they were pleased to call a “hangar,” and which was kept scrupulously locked at all times, whether the toilers were within or absent. This odd-looking building was situated in a field back of Colonel Whympers’ house, which also belonged to the crippled traveler. And frequently he would limp out to where he could look toward the shack, to talk to himself, nod his head, and smile, as though he expected great things some day when “his boys” had completed their task.
Walking down through the town on this July day, rather cool for the season, the cousins talked as usual of little else save the chances of their flying machine proving all that they expected of it.
“I’m willing to stake my future reputation on her being a hustler from the word go!” declared Andy, energetically, as they drew near the railroad yards.
“And I’m going to risk my precious life on her ability to stay up, once she gets away from the ground. That’s as much as any fellow could say!” echoed Frank; who knew only too well what faithful labor had been put into every part of the monoplane, built for two.
“Don’t I hope we’ll find our cylinder has come to hand, though?” said Andy, as he began to cast his eyes around, to immediately add excitedly: “Look there, that seems to be about the size of the package we’re expecting. Yes, and here’s the name of the aeroplane dealer we wrote to. It’s a cylinder, as sure as you live. Go and hunt up the clerk, Frank, and settle with him. Meantime I’ll be ripping off this cover, so we can carry home the beauty easier.”
So Frank immediately strode away toward the little freight office, to pay the bill, and settle matters. Andy, left alone, started to make use of his knife in cutting away the burlap that had been sewed around the object with heavy twine.
He was just well into this pleasant task, whistling merrily meanwhile, as was his wont, when he heard a hoarse cry of anger from some point close by.
“Hey! hold on there, you! What in thunder are you tearing open my freight for? I’ve got a good notion to have you arrested as a thief!” cried a voice.
And Andy, looking up in startled surprise, saw two figures bearing down under full sail, in whom he recognized his particular detestation, Percy Carberry, backed up by his shadow and crony, “Sandy” Hollingshead.