Matt had his way to make in the world, and what little money he had in the bank had come by hard knocks. Would it be wise to put it into such a thing as an air ship?
"You've got a wealthy uncle, Dick," said the young motorist, "and I don't suppose he cares a picayune what you do with your money. But it's different with me. I've got to invest what little capital I have where it will bring returns."
"It vill pring redurns oof you pud der money in der air ship, Matt," fluttered Carl. "You can make ascensions at shtate fairs, und a lod oof t'ings like dot."
"And maybe we can sell the Hawk, when we are through with her," put in Ferral, "to the United States government for a whole lot more than we paid for her.
"Und oof der gofermendt don'd vant der Hawk," said Carl, "den meppy you can sell her py some feller like Chameson for more as you pay."
"Keelhaul me!" exclaimed Ferral, struck by a sudden thought. "They're offering all kinds of prizes now for air-ship flights. We can get into some of them, mate, and make more money than we ever dreamed of! Come, old ship! Don't look as though you'd lost half a sovereign and found a sixpence. Say the word and we'll go navigating the sky for all there is in it. It's a first-chop game, you take it from me."
"I thought you were going to Quebec?" queried Matt, with a twinkle in his eyes.
"That's where I was bound for, but it makes no odds how long it takes me to get to the place. Besides, when I'm ready to pull out for the River St. Lawrence and the gulf, why can't I sail there in the Hawk?"
Matt was thoughtful. It was not his habit to jump into any new undertaking blindly, and there was something mighty alluring about this air-ship proposition.
"I'll have to give up my job with the Lestrange people," said he, "and there's a future to that."