"Of the most important kind."
"What is it?"
It was in order for Dave to explain details, and did so briefly.
"H'm," commented Grimshaw, when his pupil concluded his explanation.
"And so you thought you'd steal away without letting me know it?"
"Oh, now, Mr. Grimshaw!" Dave hastened to say—"that was not the spirit of the thing at all."
"Go ahead, Dashaway."
"Well, then, I think so very much of you I didn't want it to worry you."
"Roll her out," was all that Grimshaw would say, placing his one hand on the tail of the biplane. "Hold on for a minute. Gasoline supply?"
"Twenty-five gallons."
"That will do. Lubricating oil-all right. Now then, lad, hit that head wind every time, and you'll make it, sure."