trols, so as to become familiar with them, and Dick paid
particular attention to Larry Dexter, who needed some coaching.

"I'll get a good story out of this for my paper," said the young
reporter, who was always on the lookout for "copy."

"Well, we've proved that she will fly, and take care of us even when an
accident happens," remarked Dick, when the craft had been put back in
the barn. "Now we'll groom her a bit, put on the finishing touches,
and we'll be ready to try for that prize. The time is getting short
now."

"I hope you win it," said Mr. Vardon. "I shall feel responsible, in a
way, if you don't."

"Nothing of the sort!" cried Dick. "Whatever happens, I've got a fine
airship, and we'll have a good time, even if we don't get the twenty
thousand dollars."

The next week was a busy one, for there were several little matters
about the airship that needed attention. But gradually it was made as
nearly perfect as possible.

Then, one morning, Mr. Hamilton, who had some business to transact with
Uncle Ezra, said to Dick:

"Could you take a run over there and leave him these securities? He
asked me to get them for him out of the safe deposit box. I don't know
what he wants of them, but they are his, and I have no time to take
them to him myself. You can go in your airship, if you like, and give
him a surprise."

"No, I think I'll go in the auto. Mr. Vardon is making a change in the
motor, and it isn't in shape to run today. I'll take the boys over to
Dankville in the small car."

A little later Dick and his chums were on their way to Uncle Ezra's.
They reached Dankville in good time, but, on calling at the house, Aunt
Samantha told them her husband was at the woolen mill.

"We'll go down there and see him," decided Dick, after talking to his
aunt a little while. She had been looking in the parlor to see that,
by no chance, had a glint of light gotten in. Of late her husband and
his airship-partner, Larson, had not used the "best room," and so Aunt
Samantha's fears about the carpet being spoiled by cigar ashes had
subsided.

At the factory Dick was directed, by a foreman, to an unused wing of
the building.

"You'll find your uncle in there," the man said to Dick. "He's
building an airship!"

"A what!" cried the young millionaire in great astonishment, for he had
been too busy, of late, to hear any news from Dankville.

"An airship--a biplane, I believe they're called," the foreman went on