One day, however, he overheard a conversation between Mr. Graham and one of his mechanics which put hope into his heart.
"I'm perfectly sure of her now," the airman said. "She flies like a real bird and I've got her tuned up just the way I want her. I believe I'll let the passengers come on."
Roger went home delighted. The next day he was at the hangar long before any one else, and spoke diffidently to Mr. Graham's helper.
"I heard Mr. Graham say yesterday that he was going to take passengers to-day," he said hesitatingly. "Of course I'm only a boy, but I do want to go up."
"Want to just as much as if you were a man, eh?" smiled the mechanician. "I shouldn't wonder if you did. Have you got the price?"
That there should be a "price" had not occurred to Roger. He flushed as he said, "I don't know. How much is it?"
"Twenty-five dollars."
Roger drew a long whistle and turned away.
"No flying for me, until flying's free," he chanted drearily. "Forget that I spoke," he added, nodding to the young man.
"Too bad, old chap. Perhaps your ship will come in some day and then you for the clouds," he called cheerily after Roger's retreating form.