"Well, I hadn't thought about it, but I believe I should like to
have an airship," the young millionaire went on. "Down, Grit,
down!" he commanded, as a beautiful bulldog came racing from the
stables to fawn upon his master. I used the word "beautiful" with
certain restrictions, for Grit was about the homeliest bulldog in
existence.

But his very hideousness made him "beautiful" to a lover of dogs.
He jumped about in delight at seeing Dick again, for he had been
shut up, so he would not insist on going out in the motor-boat.

Quarters were provided for Larry Dexter, who sent off a brief
account of the accident to the airship, and Mr. Vardon was looked
after by Innis. Butt, of course, remained in the hospital.

Dr. Morrison was right when he said that Colonel Masterly would be
interested in meeting the luckless aviator. Innis took his cousin
to the head of the school, and Mr. Vardon told of his invention,
briefly, and also of the mishap to his biplane.

"Perhaps this is providential," said the colonel musingly. "For
some time I have been considering the starting of an aviation course
here, and it may be you would like to assist me in it. I want the
cadets to learn something about the fundamentals of heavier-than-air
machines. Will you accept a position as instructor?"

"I will, gladly," said Mr. Vardon. "I might as well admit that I
have no further funds to pursue my experiments, though I am
satisfied that I am on the right track. But my machine is wrecked."