"
"Who was he?" asked Dick. "That name sounds well."
"Abaris, if you will look in the back of your dictionary, you will
note was a Scythian priest of Apollo," said Innis, with a
patronizing air at his display of knowledge. "He is said to have
ridden through the air on an arrow. Isn't that a good name for your
craft, Dick?"
"It sure is. I'll christen her Abaris as soon as she's ready to
launch. Good idea, Innis."
"Oh, I'm full of 'em," boasted the cadet, strutting about.
"You're full of conceit--that's what you are," laughed Paul.
Suddenly there came a menacing growl from Grit, who was outside the
airship shed, and Dick called a warning.
"Who's there?" he asked, thinking it might be a stranger.
A rasping voice answered:
"It's me! Are you there, Nephew Richard? I went all through the
house, but nobody seemed to be home."
"It's Uncle Ezra!" whispered Dick, making a pretense to faint.
"I've come to pay you a little visit," went on the crabbed old
miser. "Where's your pa?"
"Why, he's gone to New York."
"Ha! Another sinful and useless waste of money! I never did see
the beat!"
"He had to go, on business," answered Dick.
"Humph! Couldn't he write? A two cent stamp is a heap sight
cheaper than an excursion ticket to New York. But Mortimer never
did know the value of money," sighed Uncle Ezra.
Grit growled again.
"Nephew Richard, if your dog bites me I'll make you pay the doctor
bills," warned Mr.
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