“And I’ve no doubt you will. Let’s go now, father.”
“Impatient youth must be served, I suppose,” acquiesced the other, smilingly.
“Where’s wee Willie, I wonder?” exclaimed Cranny, when they had filed out on the steps.
“Oh, he’d be afraid to go very far away,” said Tommy. “Don’t bother about him.”
“It isn’t causin’ my brow to become furrowed with wrinkles,” grinned Cranny.
The crowd, closely following the inventor and his sons, cut diagonally across to the opposite building, and, upon turning its corner, discovered Willie pulling aside a flap of the most curious-looking tent they had ever seen.
“Look out, son—for goodness’ sake don’t touch anything!” cried Mr. Ogden, hastily.
“Who’s touching anything, I’d like to know?” mumbled Willie, disconcertedly. “What’s in there?”
“That is the ‘Ogden II,’” answered the inventor, good-naturedly. “Not nearly so fine as our latest model,” he added. “The aeroplane tent, boys, is quite a new departure, designed in order that experiments may be carried on wherever we choose, without the necessity of building hangars.”
“Dandy!” cried Beaumont. “But isn’t it a whopping big machine, Mr. Ogden?”