"That's my name, yes."
"Then we've got important business with you. Please open the door."
"Beats all a feller can't have no sleep," grumbled Mr. Benner, shoving a bolt and jerking the door open.
A big, sandy-haired man, in undershirt and trousers, stood confronting the boys, a flickering candle upheld in his right hand.
"What d'ye want?" demanded Benner.
"Here's a paper I want you to read," answered Matt, taking from his pocket Mrs. Traquair's order for the aëroplane, and handing it to the post trader.
Benner grabbed the paper in his left hand, and held the candle in front of it.
"Jumpin' Mariar!" he gasped. "Here's an order for that bloomin' flyin' machine."
"Yes. We're here to take charge of it, Mr. Benner."
"Oh, y' are, eh? Well, I haven't got it. Looks kinder suspicious, too, this here order does."