"And how did you solve the problem of what to do with the rest of the
summer?" he asked.

For answer Peggy pointed to the sky, a delicate blue dome flecked with
tiny cloudlets like cherub's wings.

"By circling way up yonder in the cloudfields," she laughed.

"But that's no novelty," objected Roy, "we've been up 5,000 feet
already, and----" "But we're talking about a tour through cloudland,"
burst out Jess, unable to retain the secret any longer, "a sort of
Cook's tour above the earth."

"Wow!" gasped both boys. "There's nothing slow," added Roy, "in that
or about you two. And, incidentally, just read this letter I got this
morning, or rather I'll read it for you."

So saying Roy produced from his coat a letter closely written in an
old-fashioned handwriting. It was as follows:


"My Dear Niece and Nephew: No doubt you will be surprised to hear from
your Uncle Jack. Possibly you will hardly recall him. This has, in a
great measure, been his own fault as, since your poor father's death,
I have not paid the attention I should to my correspondence.

"This letter, then, is to offer what compensation lies in my power for
my neglect. Having read in the papers of your wonderful flying feats in
Nevada it struck me that you and your young friends might like to pay