“How? Where?” asked Mr. King.
“Down at Talcott, the town near our farm. There was a circus and a balloon ascension. I got caught in a rope and was dragged thirty feet up into the air.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes. Here, there’s a slip from the Talcott Herald, telling all about ‘the daring feat of our young townsman.’ If I hadn’t caught in a tree I’d have gone further.”
There was a sound of rustling paper. Then Dave heard Mr. King laugh. It was a kindly, good natured laugh, though. Dave voted he would like the man in whom he was so interested yet whom he had never seen.
“Well, well,” spoke Mr. King, “you were quite a hero. Being pulled up into the clouds on a balloon anchor is not the kind of experience that counts for much in the airship line, though, my lad. If I had something just suited to you, I would give you a chance on your honest face. Frankly, though, I do not think you would be of much use to me until you have had some practical experience.”
“Sorry,” replied Hiram Dobbs in a subdued tone, “for I like you, mister. Now, where can I get that experience?”
“By working around the hangars and doing odd jobs till you know a monoplane from a biplane, and a pylon from an aileron. See here, you go down to the office of the grounds—know where it is?”
“Yes, sir, near the big gateway, isn’t it?”
“That’s right. You ask for Mr. Linden, and tell him I want him to give you a job. Tell him I will be down to see him about it in an hour or so.”