It was the day following the accident to the biplane. After a brief
consultation with Mr. Vardon, and a calling together of his faculty
members, Colonel Masterly had made formal announcement that a course
in aviation would be open at Kentfield for those who cared to take
it.
"I think it will be great!" cried Dick.
"Are you going in for it?" asked Paul.
"I sure am--if dad will let me."
"Oh, I guess he will all right," spoke Innis, "He lets you do almost
anything you want to--in reason. But I know a certain person who
WILL object."
"Who?" asked Dick, fondling his dog.
"Your Uncle Ezra!"
"I guess that's so!" laughed Dick. "He'll say it's expensive, and
all that sort of thing, and that I'll be sure to break my neck, or
at least fracture an arm. But we saw one accident that came out
pretty well. I think I'll take a chance."
"So will I!" cried Paul.
"I guess you can count me in," agreed Innis, slowly.
"How about it, Larry?" asked Dick, as the young reporter came across
the campus. "How does it feel to sail above the clouds?"
"Well, I haven't yet gone up that far. This is only about my fifth
flight, and we only did 'grass cutting' for the first few--that is
going up only a little way above the ground. I had to get used to
it gradually.
"But it's great! I like it, and you're only afraid the first few
minutes. After that you don't mind it a bit--that is not until you
get into trouble, as we did."
"And I can't understand that trouble, either," said Mr.
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