There wasn’t a particle of emotion in his voice, but somehow both Orissa and Stephen knew he was in earnest. It was difficult to say anything fitting in reply, and after a brief pause the man continued:
“I can see that your airship is at present something of a wreck. How much money do you need?”
“I ought to have at least a thousand dollars,” answered Steve, reflectively glancing around the shop. Cumberford’s eyes followed his.
“Will two thousand do it?”
“Of course, sir.”
“I’ll lend you three,” said the man. “I don’t want a half interest. I won’t rob you.”
Both boy and girl stared at him in amazement.
“What security do you require?” asked Stephen, suspiciously.
“Eh? None at all. The thing interests me. If you make a lot of money, I’ll let you pay me back some day. That’s fair. If you fail, you’ll have worries enough without having to repay me. But I attach two conditions to my offer. One is that you have nothing to do with Burthon. The other is that I have permission to come here and watch your work; to advise with you at times; to help you map out your future career and to attend all the flying exhibitions in which you take part. Agree to that, and I’ll back you through thick and thin, because I’m interested in aviation and—because your sister was good to me.”
“I’ll do it, sir!” cried Steve, excitedly.