Napier's death was sudden. Manufacturer's bills for the balloon bag
and engine came due and Ned, young as he was, knew that he must pay
them. Putting on all the dignity that his sixteen years would
permit he called on the manager of the amusement park.

"I hear your father is dead," said the manager. "I suppose we have
lost the twenty-five per cent we advanced on the air ship."

"Why do you suppose that?"

"Because he had complete charge of the work and we have no one to
take his place."

"I mean to do that myself," said Ned.

The manager smiled and shook his head. "No doubt you would try--you
look it--but we don't care to experiment."

"But you want the air ship, don't you? You've advertised it."

"Yes, it was ordered--through your father. Since he is dead and
cannot contribute his services, our agreement is void."

"Very well," replied Ned. "Good day."

"Look here," interrupted the manager, "what do you mean to do?"

"I'm going out to sell an air ship."

"You mean our air ship?"