ing has completed a
successful aeroplane which made a wonderful flight to-night in a stiff
wind. He says that Harding has formed a company and means to manufacture
similar craft. Then there was a lot of taffy about what a fine young
fellow Harding is, and how bright, and so on. Wonder if it's true?"

"I can vouch for that," said Peggy. "I've seen his factory. It's out by
Gid Gibbons's shop."

"So that's where Gid is getting all his money," exclaimed Jeff. "I saw
him spending it like water in Sandy Bay the other day. Hester's got a lot
of new dresses and hats, too."

Peggy's heart beat a little faster. This sounded like a corroboration of
her suspicions. Where could such a man as Gid Gibbons be getting such
large amounts of money as he seemed to have recently? But before she
could ask any more questions Mrs. Beasley announced supper. Speculation
was rife in Peggy's mind as they sat down to the broiled sea bass,
freshly caught, home-grown potatoes and string beans and other good
things which the light-keeper had designated as "rough fare." Peggy was
fain to admit afterward, and so was Roy, that never had she enjoyed
anything so much as that meal in the old lighthouse with the wind roaring
about it and the rough, kindly faces of their entertainers smiling on
them.

Good-natured Mrs. Beasley soon after arranged sleeping accommodations for
her young guests, and that night the young aviators slumbered peacefully,
while above them the great revolving light swept steadily in slow
circles, warning vessels passing up and down the Sound of the dangerous
proximity of Rocky Point.

The next day dawned bright and fair. The sea lay like a sheet of blue
glass, with scarcely a ripple to mar its polished surface. The last trace
of the wind had died down.

"We'll have no more breeze till sundown," announced Mr. Beasley at
breakfast. Like most men of his profession, he was an earnest and
accurate student of the weather. After breakfast Jeff Stokes, who had
been on duty all night, was relieved by his assistant, a young man who
boarded in the village and rode over to his duty on a motor-cycle.

"Well," said Roy, after they had thanked their good-hearted entertainers
warmly, "I guess it's time for us to be getting home."

But Peggy had noted a wistful look in Jeff Stokes's eyes as he stood by
the side of the aeroplane, which an examination had already shown to be
none the worse for its buffeting of the night before.

"Would you lik