Ranged on the sides of the room were models of many queer
craft, most of them flying machines of one sort or another, while
through the open door that led into a large shed could be seen
the outlines of a speedy monoplane.

"As bad as that, eh, Tom?" went on Ned. "I thought something
was up when I first came in, but, if you'll excuse a second
mention of the color scheme, I should say it was blue--decidedly
blue. You look as though you had lost your last friend, and I
want to assure you that if you do feel that way, it's dead wrong.
There's myself, for one, and I'm sure Mr. Damon--"

"Bless my gasoline tank!" exclaimed Tom, with a laugh, in
imitation of the gentleman Ned Newton had mentioned, "I know
that! I'm not worrying over the loss of any friends."

"And there are Eradicate, and Koku, the giant, just to mention
a couple of others," went on Ned, with a smile.

"That's enough!" exclaimed Tom. "It isn't that, I tell you."

"Well, what is it then? Here I go and get a half-holiday off
from the bank, and just at the busiest time, too, to come and see
you, and I find you in a brown study, looking as blue as indigo,
and maybe you're all yellow inside from a bilious attack, for all
I know."

"Quite a combination of colors," admitted Tom. "But it isn't
what you think. It's just that I'm puzzled, Ned."