gy.

"You said you liked it, too," struck in Jess.

"Um--well, I may have said so," admitted Miss Prescott, visibly
weakening from the stand she had taken, and she went on: "I would
like to see James again."

"And here is your opportunity ready to hand, as the advertisements say,"
declared Bess, her blue eyes shining.

"But how could I go?"

The question was an outward and visible sign of capitulation on Miss
Prescott's part.

"Why, I was thinking we could use that big biplane I was building for
Mr. Bell's use out in Nevada," spoke up Roy; "it will seat three, and is
as steady as a church, thanks to that balancing device Jimsy and I
figured out."

"I'd fly my little _Dart_," declared Bess.

"And you and I would take the _Golden Butterfly_," cried Peggy, crossing
to Jessie and placing her arm round the dark-haired girl's neck.

"Jimsy can fly the _Red Dragon_, and that leaves Roy and auntie for the
biplane," she went on, bubbling over with enthusiasm as her plans
matured and took form.

"Goodness gracious, an aerial circus!" cried Miss Prescott. "We would
attract crowds, and that wouldn't be pleasant."

"I was planning to make it a sort of picnic," declared Peggy, who
appeared to have an answer for every objection that could be interposed
to her project.

"What, camp out every night? Well, you are a wonder," exclaimed Jimsy,
"if there's one thing I love it's camping out."

"How long would it take us to get to Marysville?" asked Bess.

"I'll get the atlas," cried Peggy, "but if we have good weather not more
than three or four days."

"I hardly think it would take as long as that," declared Roy, as five
eager heads were bent over the atlas.

"But camping out!" exclaimed Miss Prescott, "think of colds and
rheumatism, not to mention snakes and robbers."

"Tell you what," cried Jimsy suddenly, "what's the matter with Miss
Prescott going along in an automobile? We can map out the route, arrange
our stops and meet every evening at some small town where we won't
attract too much of a crowd."

"Jimsy, I always said you were a genius," cried Peggy.

"Behold the last objection swept away," struck in Bess.

"Surely you can't refuse now?" urged Jess.

"Please say yes," came from them all.

"But--but who would drive the car?" asked Miss Prescott, in the voice of
one who is thinking up a feeble last objection.

"Why, Jake Rickets, of course," declared Roy, referring to the man who
helped the boys in the m