Vardon's gyroscope, as had been suspected.
The twenty thousand dollars was duly paid, and Dick gave the United
States government an option to purchase his patents of the Abaris.
For them he would receive a substantial sum, and a large part of
this would go to Mr. Vardon for his gyroscope.
"So you'll be all right from now on," his cousin Innis remarked.
"Yes, thanks to your friend Dick Hamilton. My good luck all dates
from meeting him."
"Yes, he is a lucky chap," agreed Paul.
"I think Uncle Ezra had all the luck this trip," put in Dick, as he
heard the last words. "That gasolene he brought along to clean the
grease off his clothes saved our bacon, all right. It sure did!"
And I believe Dick was right.
Mr. Hamilton, to whom Dick wired a brief message of the successful
ending of the trip, telegraphed back:
"Congratulations. You made good after all. I haven't any doubts
now."
"That's another time I put one over on dad!" laughed Dick.
"Where are you going, Larry?" asked the young millionaire, as he
saw his young newspaper friend hurrying across the aviation field.
"I'm going to wire the story to the Leader," was the answer. "I
want 'em to know we crossed the continent and won the prize. It'll
be a great beat!"
Of how Dick was feted and greeted by an aviation club in San
Francisco, of how he was made much of by the army officers, and how
he had to give many exhibition flights, I will say nothing here, as
this book is already lengthy enough.
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