“Mr. McLeod!” Chick broke in, forgetting manners in his excitement, “we went over the Dragonfly today! She’s in apple pie order. Can’t Don take her aloft? Can’t he fly the mail?”
“Can you?” The man turned to his nephew.
“I can—but how does Scott pick up the mail?” The maneuver was explained to him.
“Can’t Garry and Chick go along?” begged Don, generously including his comrades. “They could help a lot, and maybe make up by helping me for the slower speed of the Dragonfly.”
It was arranged.
Eager, excited, with a possible contract for mail flying at stake, three earnest airlane enthusiasts got their flying togs and necessary articles from the disabled Dart, signal lights to identity the new ship, warmed up the Dragonfly, and were ready to take off.
“I’ll radio the Caledonia about the change,” Mr. McLeod said. “Now—boys—do your best—and be—careful!”
“Oh, we will!” Chick waved a hand from the cockpit. “Anyhow—we’ve got to come through. We carry a charm to clip ghost wings, you know!”
Chick always boasted a trifle too early!