“That means Dave can fly down to see you every day or so. No wonder girls fall for fellows that are aviators!”
“Dave isn’t a full-fledged one yet,” Doris returned proudly, “but he’ll soon finish his flying course and then he expects to get a license.”
“Transport or marriage?” Marshmallow grinned.
“Oh, go chase yourself!” Doris retorted slangily.
Marshmallow got up from the porch and lazily stretched himself.
“I think I will,” he returned. “I can smell cookies baking in the kitchen, and I’ll just ankle around and coerce Mother into parting with a few dozen.”
After Marshmallow had gone inside, Doris continued to study the map for several minutes and then tossed it aside as she caught sight of her uncle coming up the walk. Eagerly, she ran to meet him.
“What have you in those packages?” she demanded.
“Oh, something nice for you.”
As he smiled indulgently down upon her, Doris could not but think how very fortunate she was to have such a generous and handsome uncle. Though Wardell Force was of middle age, with hair fast turning gray, he walked with the step of a boy and his energy was equal to that of any dozen average men. His voice was low pitched, but of singular quality which made one instinctively turn to listen when he spoke.