had been taken up in the atmosphere in his
airship, Uncle Ezra said nothing. He just sat there in the padded
seat, clutching with his hands the rails in so tight a grip that his
knuckles showed white.

Up and up they went, Larson skillfully guiding the craft, until they
were a considerable distance above the earth.

"That's--that's far enough!" Uncle Ezra managed to yell, above the
throb of the now throttled-down motor. "Don't go--any higher!"

"All right," agreed the aviator. "But she'll work easier up a little
more."

"No--it--it's too far--to fall!" said Mr. Larabee, and he could not
keep his voice from trembling.

Really, though, he stood it bravely, though probably the thought of all
the money he had invested in the craft, as well as the prize he was
after, buoyed up his spirits.

"How do you like it?" asked Larson, when they had circled around over
Mr. Larabee's extensive farm for some time.

"It's different from what I expected," remarked Uncle Ezra. "But it
seems good. I don't know as I'll stand it all the way to San
Francisco, though."

"Oh, yes, you will," asserted Larson. "You'll get used to it in time."

"Is she working all right, Lieutenant Larson?"

"Yes, pretty well. I see a chance to make one or two changes though,
that will make her better."

"Does that mean--er--more money?" was Uncle Ezra's anxious question.

"Well, some, yes."

"Not another cent!" burst out the crabbed old man. "I won't spend
another cent on her. I've sunk enough money in the old shebang."

Larson did not answer. He simply tilted the elevating rudder and the
biplane poked her nose higher up into the air.

"Here! What you doing?" demanded Uncle Ezra.

"I'm going up higher."

"But I tell you I don't want to! I want to go down! This is high
enough!" and Uncle Ezra fairly screamed.

"We've got to go higher," said Larson. "The carburetor isn't working
just right at this low elevation. That's what I wanted the extra money
for, to get a new one. But of course if you feel that you can't spare
it, why, we'll simply have to fly higher, that's all. The carburetor
we have will work all right at a high elevation on account of the
rarefied air, but with a different one, of course we could stay
lower--if we wanted to.

"Still, if you feel you can't afford it," he went on, with a sly look
at the crabbed old man who sat there clutching the sides of the seat,
"we'll have to do the best we can, and make this ca