about in the technical publications?"

"I believe I am," smiled Peggy; "but here comes my aunt, Miss Sallie
Prescott."

As she spoke, Miss Prescott, in a soft gown of cool white material,
emerged from the house. Peggy went through the ceremony of introduction,
after which they all directed their steps to the large shed in which the
Prescott machines were kept. In the meantime, old Sam Hickey, the
gardener, and his stalwart son Jerusah, had been summoned to aid in
dragging out one of the aeroplanes.

"We only have two on hand," explained Peggy; "my brother has forwarded the
others that we built to Mr. James Bell, the mining man. They are being
used in aerial gold transportation across the Nevada desert."

"Indeed! That is most interesting."

Sam Hickey flung open the big doors and revealed the interior of the shed
with the two scarab-like monoplanes standing within. A strong smell of
gasoline and machine-oil filled the air. The officer glanced at Peggy's
dainty figure in astonishment. It seemed hard to associate this refined,
exquisite young girl with the rough actualities of machinery and
aeroplanes.

[Illustration: When she emerged a very business-like Peggy had taken the
place of the lounger in the hammock.]

But Peggy, with a word of excuse, dived suddenly into a small room. While
she was gone, Miss Prescott entertained the young officer with many