“Good. Don’t patent it until after the aviation meet. It’s your strongest point. Keep that one surprise, at least, up your sleeve.”
As Steve was considering this advice Sybil Cumberford came softly to her father’s side and said:
“Daddy, I want to fly.”
“To flee or to flew?” he asked, banteringly, at the same time looking at her intently.
“To fly in the air.”
Mr. Cumberford sighed.
“Kane, what will a duplicate of your aircraft cost?”
“I can’t say exactly, sir,” replied the boy, smiling.
“Shall we order one, Sybil?”
She stood staring straight ahead, with that impenetrable, mysterious look in her dark eyes which was so typical of the girl. Cumberford threw away his cigarette and coughed.