“Donald thought you might be going to peddle it.”
“Not I,” the aviator laughed. “I’ll be using a lot of it. Want to stay and watch me?”
“Sure I do!”
Ten minutes later, Johnny found himself looking at the strangest airplane motor he or anyone else had even seen.
“And does it really use liquid air for fuel?” he asked.
“Sure it does!” The aviator had reached for a small jug of liquid air. “Watch and see. Liquid air and carbon, that’s what she eats.
“You put the liquid air in here and the carbon here. The mechanism mixes it and throws it into the combustion chambers in just the right quantity.
“I’ve had a tough time,” he straightened up. “Liquid air was so cold it froze up all my lubricants. But I’ve solved that. Got two sets of feeders. One set is being thawed out by the exhaust while the other’s working. Going to be great now. Stick around until I get the motor hooked up and we’ll take a ride on air—liquid air.” He laughed a joyous laugh.
“But say!” His voice changed. “Tell that boy up at the mill that his grandfather is much better. Got that word on my short wave wireless. He’ll be coming home soon. Fine thing. Great old man!”
“Never was any finer,” Johnny said huskily. “He’s done a lot for these people. He helped them to make a living. On Sunday he talked to them like a father. He told the ones who have been doing a lot of fighting—”