And, say, it's a wonder I could walk right by a thing of that kind without gettin' next, even if it was kind of dark. But all I needs now is one glimpse of the outlines.
"Oho!" says I. "A flyer! Say, every bughouse in the country is at work on one of them."
"I suppose so," says he. "I may be as big a fool as any of them, too; but I think I know what I'm doing. At any rate, I've put my last dollar into it. That's why my sister is so——Well, she thinks I am——"
"Yes, I suspicioned she was some sore on you," says I. "But what sort of a flyer is this, double or single winger?"
"It's a biplane," says Tuttle, "on the Farnham type, only an improved model."
"Of course it's improved," says I. "Tried her out yet!"
"Hardly," says he. "I couldn't buy an engine, you see. That's what I've been waiting for. Say, you really think the Corrugated will take that option, do you? If they only would!"
"You must be in a hurry to break your neck," says I.
Before I left, though, he'd shown me all over the thing, explained how it was goin' to work, and did his best to get me as excited as he was. Also I makes him give me the full details of how he come to get this option, and I advises him if he does manage to cash it in for two thousand, to take an ax to his flying machine and hike out for some lung preservin' climate where he'll have a chance to shake that cough.
"Thanks," says he, grippin' my hand and chokin' up. "You—you've been mighty good to me. I'll remember it."