mention that again please, Andy."

"It's too late now, anyhow," remarked the other, drily, "because there
they go, spinning down the road like wildfire. Percy never does anything
except in a whirl. He's as bold as they make them, and the only wonder
to me is that he hasn't met with a terrible accident before now. But
somehow he seems to escape, even when he smashes his flier to kindling
wood. His luck beats the Dutch; he believes in it himself, you know."

"But some day it's going to fail, and then he'll never what happened to
him," declared Frank. "Of all the professions in the world, that of a
flying machine man is the one where a cool head and quick judgment are
the things most needed. And the fellow who takes great chances,
depending on his good luck, is bound to meet up with trouble. But if you
are bound to stay, Andy, I'd better be off."

Upon entering the barn they found that the farmer had finished his task,
and was pitching some new sweet hay to the cows.

Frank suggested hiring a horse from him, but Mr. Quackenboss scoffed at
the idea.

"You're as welcome to the use of my saddle hoss as the sunlight is after
a spell of rain," he said, heartily. "Here, Felix, get Bob out; and
you'll find my new saddle hanging on that peg back of the harness room
door. And as for Andy, who's going to stay over with us, we'll find a
chair for him at the supper table, and only hope hell tell us some of
the many things you two have gone through with, both around this region,
and away down in South America, that time you found the lost Professor."