“Captain Abe Sprowl, in charge of the Aëro Carnival, announces that he has engaged, at unprecedented expense, the newest marvel of the air, the motor-driven hydroaeroplane, The Electric Monarch, owned and invented by Ned Nevins, the youthful inventor. The machine will make a flight from Nestorville to the show grounds, and will be on view daily during the carnival.”
“Well, what do you think of that?” gasped out Jack, as he read this flamboyant announcement out aloud to his companions. “As a press agent Captain Sprowl is certainly a wonder. It looks as if we’d have to go now, boys, doesn’t it?”
“It sure does,” agreed Tom, “but I wish he hadn’t run that fool notice. We don’t want all that notoriety just now.”
“No, indeed. Not till the plans are all safely filed in the patent office,” agreed Ned, with a serious look. “Queer, that whoever took the other set hasn’t tried to place them on record yet, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I can’t understand it,” agreed Jack; “it looks as if they had something up their sleeves that we know nothing about. However, there is no use worrying over it. I guess we ought to be thankful that things are as they are.”
Heiny Dill arrived a few moments later. In honor of his new job he had purchased a more flaring tie than ever, and his socks were of a lurid purple.
“Any news of Sam, Heiny?” inquired Jack, as the young German sauntered up, whistling blithely, to where the lads stood grouped about the Electric Monarch, on which some minor adjustments were being made.
“Nodt a vord,” responded young Dill, “he hass made idt a vanishment as if he hadt dropped der eardt off.”
“Well, I don’t hear any complaints about his absence,” declared Tom. “So far as we are concerned we don’t care if he never comes back. I’m sorry for his father, though.”
“Veil, der oldt man is bearing oop midt remargable composure alretty,” declared Heiny, cocking his head on one side and giving a “yodle” more remarkable for vigor than harmony.